Poke and Prod
by Akumarayne
Summary: Crowe gives his new crew member a warm welcoming… by constantly harassing him at every given opportunity. Crowe/Arumat silliness - sexiness in later chapters rating T for first few chapters, M for later ones
1. Saving Your Soul

_**Saving Your Soul**_

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It began as any ordinary day would, given that the Aquila was cruising about in hyper space. Crowe was seated at the command console about to enjoy a sip of morning coffee when they suddenly exited hyper space and one of his crewmembers announced a radio signal had pinged up on their display. It was a distress signal from what appeared to be a small unidentified ship.

Crowe's crew had grown used to the red-haired mans chivalrous nature thus they normally stopped at every instance of assistance. Giving the benefit of the doubt, as he usually did, Crowe heard the message and responded to this ships plea for assistance.

Unbeknownst to Crowe, his ship was about to become involved in the phantom affair but if the red-haired Earthling had known, he would have taken the same action regardless. Crowe was a man of honor and valor, but more than that he was a man with bad taste in humor.

While attempting to reach the damaged ship of the man named Lucien, a blast stuck his own ship. It was an ambush, but he didn't believe this Lucien character had set it up, it might just appear that way as Crowe was a very good judge of character and Lucien had clearly sounded sincere, especially his plea to help the women more than himself.

_/How romantic./_ Crowe thought to himself and was about to put forth every effort to save this man he hardly knew.

A reddish-black hued ship emerged from its ambush position and began to heavily fire upon his ship, but Crowe was lucky in the fact that his crew was well trained. They managed to avoid most of the shots, however they lacked the means of attacking back, at least none that would be any good unless they had gotten a lucky break, which wasn't looking promising. All they could do in the meantime was maneuver around and attempt to catch a moment's reprieve to rescue the other ships occupants.

As fate would have it, the black ship took notice of them both fending off its attacks and attempting to protect the ship and decided to ignore them and focus entirely on Lucien's ship. There was nothing more they could do, and the ship was destroyed but not without Lucien sharing his dying request and thanks.

"Damn!" Crowe cussed and slammed a fist onto the console.

"Sir, another incoming signal." One of his crew reported bringing up the map. A small dot appeared close to their location.

Another ship had apparently been shot down by this mysteriously aggressive black one. Since it was some distance off from the first, it wasn't clear if the two were related or if this was merely coincidence. This signal however, wasn't of distress, it was merely a tracking signal for other ships to detect its presence.

"Any signs of life on that ship?" Crowe asked thinking it might have been in the same situation, though unable to call for help. If the crew were even remotely alive he'd take the chance to rescue them.

"There's only one, sir." The crewman replied after several moments of quick tapping on computer keys.

"Do you think you can get close enough so that I can get inside?" Crowe asked in a serious manner. He may yet have a chance to save at least one life this day.

"I could swing around the far end of the ship and use it to block the oncoming shots but it's not going to hold out for long and our ship might encounter some shield damage." The crewman replied.

"Do it. I'll be as quick as I can, try your best to hold out until I return." Crowe said.

"Yes, sir." All of the crew answered in union this time.

It took a fair amount of time to lose the ominous black ship enough so that they would gain the maximum amount of time before it would find them and start their bombardment against them again. Hopefully, that would be enough to save whoever it was in that ship.

When the Aquila docked and the hatches opened Crowe had to pry open the other ships door, as it seemed the damage had knocked out all of the power to the ship. This wasted even more time then he had planned.

Finally getting inside he easily made his way onto the flight deck. Upon entering he noticed the crewmen strew about and the captain who was slumped against the console. He wasn't sure which one was the sole survivor out of the five he could see.

"Hello? I'm here to help so... just let me know which one of you is alive in someway." Crowe called out in his usually composed manner. Even with certain stresses he seemed to always be the calm and cool captain.

The red-haired man wasn't about to waste anymore time so he made a round, checking each man's pulse before ending with the captains. Upon approaching the man a strong, powerful arm gripped his.

Bingo! This was the survivor. "Come now, we don't have much time. I'll assist you." Crowe called to the grey haired captain urgently.

"Go without me. I will die with my crew." The gruff voice of the man said so quietly that it was almost hard for the red haired man to hear above all the electrical sparking.

"What? Don't be stupid, there's no use in dying here. Now let's get you up." Crowe said and attempted to pull or drag the man out of his seat.

"I do not deserve life. Who am I, to live on after my crew has already left this world?" The taller man said almost pitifully as he shoved Crowe violently away.

The grey haired man's golden eyes burned into Crowe's shimmering emerald ones. The captain could see emptiness mixed with a strange emotion he had never known nor could yet understand in those stern, unsetting eyes.

Crowe had the foresight enough to know there was not going to be any reasoning with this man, so he would have to take drastic measures. This man was not going to be happy with him later, but he came here to save his life and didn't intend to leave until they both had to escape.

So, Crowe took the man's weapon and using the staff end knocked him unconscious. The man was a lot heavier than his pale body made it seem and it took a great effort to haul him and his weapon back to the Aquila but that he did. Just in time as the ships barrier was about to give.

"Let's get the heck out of here! I'll be in after I put this man to rest, so it's up to you guys." Crowe spoke into the intercom that was placed in the armor of his chest the moment the hatch of his own ship closed.

The Aquila took off and eventually they were able to enter hyperspace, leaving the ominous black ship behind.

Crowe was now staring down, or up as the man was taller than himself, at the man he had just saved. They had been engaged in a staring contest the moment he had entered the room and neither seemed keen on the idea of losing.

After another ten minutes of this heated staring contest Crowe decided to speak up. "I don't understand why you refuse our help and your insistence on dying. I am not asking for thanks for even gratitude."

The Eldarian, for that is what he was, was at least polite enough to give his name and race, but had said nothing else to anyone and now the captain was standing before him, enduring his heated, hateful glare.

Crowe had many an idea of how to solve this problem, but nothing solid in his mind as of yet. He could tell his man had merit and was worth the trouble even if he was a little cold hearted. Thus Crowe decided to make it his duty to make the Eldarian feel welcome, and Crowe's idea of welcoming was… much akin to harassment.

"You and only you were saved." Crowe began. "Fate is a cruel mistress, and the future is always uncertain... but there is still something you must do before your soul is stolen away by death's cold embrace. If you truly are a soldier, you should use this chance to help, not only those around you, but yourself as well."

And with that Crowe left the man to his solitude. The red-haired man would never notice the snide smile on the grey haired man's face as he left.


	2. Blame Your Regrets

_**Blame Your Regrets**_

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While the Eldarian remained firm in his desire to have nothing to do with anyone, it wasn't until an incident involving a gigantic mothership that he decided to assist. The grey haired Eldarian had told Crowe that it would be pointless to leave him to rot in the ship when he would be put to far better use in battle. Crowe consented and was surprised at the man's prowess in battle.

After several battles Crowe suspected Arumat's reckless battle style was a way to challenge anyone to strike him down to his death, which Arumat constantly reminded him, was impossible.

"You can't kill death, for death has already died." Arumat replied to Crowe asking about it while stuck inside the Cardianion's steel prison walls.

"So the question becomes… how to kill something that can't die, right?" Crowe answered as he eyed the other man up.

Arumat smiled in bemusement but nothing more.

"I'll find a way." Crowe said knocking on one of the walls with his fist. He had already tried his laser swords to no effect. Arumat's spells didn't work, nor his scythe. The last resort was to see if there was a weak spot they could break or attempt to break through at.

"If you want to waste your time, go ahead. It would at least be amusing." Arumat countered as he stood tapping the pole of his scythe against his shoulder.

Crowe was becoming a bit frustrated at the situation. There seemed to be no apparent way out, at least not from the inside. "Well, might as well pass the time until something happens to give us a means of escape."

Arumat raised his brow at him but said nothing.

"Let's have sex. That's always a great time waster." Crowe said deadpan and with as much tact as a certain featherfolk would have.

"What!" Arumat interrobanged, a very slight flush on his face, and the paleness of his body made it stand out more than it normally would have.

"At least you didn't try to kill me outright this time. Much like the time I walked into the room when you had first woken up." Crowe reminded him. He remembered the incident that involved the silver haired man threatening anyone who walked into the room with a scythe positioned to decapitate them. Crowe was lucky enough to keep not only his life, but the lives of his crew that day.

Arumat went back to glaring at the redhead fiercely, as he usually did when he was extremely displeased.

"Well, there's always tick-tack-toe." Crowe suggested with a shrug.

"What?" Arumat said for the second time, but more in confusion at what Crowe had just said.

Crowe remembered that not everyone he met would be familiar with anything on Earth. "It's real simple." Crowe rooted around until he found a piece of charcoal he had picked up earlier and began to draw a pound sign. "You see, you put either an X or an O inside one of these squares. The rules are we go one at a time, until you get all of your symbols lined up, then you win."

"Pointless." Arumat said irately, going back to tapping his weapon against his shoulder.

"It won't _kill_ you to try it." Crowe said amusedly, using the one word the man loved to try to arouse the man's curiosity into playing this game with him.

Apparently that was all it took and thus the two began a rather lengthy battle in this simply earth game. It brought a strange sense of contentment to the usually sullen grey haired man.

"I told you it was a simple game." Crowe said having covered most of the steel walls with their messy charcoal scratching.

The end result of this was interesting to say the least, even off the battlefield Arumat seemed to be aggressively centered, and adamantly refused to take turns with the symbols, always cutting the two crisscrossing lines so harshly with the charcoal he was surprised it didn't snap in half. The Eldarian did not do too badly for never having played before, the score ending with Crowe at 55, Arumat at 25 and having tied with 22 wins.

Arumat glared at the redhead, though it wasn't quite as angry this time, almost as if the Eldarian held a grudging respect for the man he was now spending his time with.

"Still up for the—" Crowe began.

"Do you _want_ to die?" Arumat replied cutting off the redhead's words with his knife like tone.

"Would rather not, but if it's them or you, I'd rather die by your hands you handsome beast you." Crowe said teasingly and pawed the air in a catlike manner.

Arumat readied his scythe to cut the man to pieces when a strange voice called out loudly to them from the other side of the stone barrier, saving Crowe yet again from a bloody death at the Eldarian's hands.

"Please step back."

The two of them did, but with weapons drawn and ready to take out whoever was coming through the other side. The figure that appeared after the dust had cleared was like nothing the two had ever seen. Crowe relaxed his guard a bit sensing no animosity in the man's almost human like face, while Arumat was ready to strike it down in a moment's notice.

Crowe waved a hand toward Arumat in a gesture that he should relax, which he hesitantly obeyed. "Iron Giant, take us to your leader!"

Arumat face palmed and groaned at this. His bad karma was yet again playing with his life, forcing upon him an idiotic leader that he had no real choice but to follow for the moment. It would only be a matter of time before this strange red-haired man and his crew met their untimely deaths because of his presence.

It was then that the two were introduced to Bacchus. He explained who he was, what he was doing here and how he had found the two. The Cardianion who managed this base were deciding what to do with the two when Bacchus had entered into the room and saw them on the monitor. Being that they looked human and were being held in the prison, Bacchus had decided to come to their eventual rescue.

Crowe was thankful and decided to join with the robotic man and his cause.

"If you say you are going to assist then I suppose I have no objections." Arumat began. At Crowe's surprised look he added. "You _are_ the leader I now find myself serving. I suppose I wouldn't mind following your orders."

They all then shook hands in a show of friendship. Step one of Crowe's plan was now complete.

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A/N: I'm screwing with the storyline! It's all meant to be nothing but a silly idea, and it would be boring if everything played out the same. The next chapter is where it all gets very crazy.

Interrobang is indeed a word. (it's in the dictionary, but not in the msword one, I guess it doesn't like slang terms.) I tried to make Crowe in character as much as possible but I don't know much about him so I just went with it.

Many, many thanks to Shiaori and Sawahii who's given me the ideas for this and without them this fic wouldn't exist.


	3. Bacchus's Hobbies

_**Bacchus's Hobbies**_

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The Aquila drifted peacefully along in the blackness of deep space. The days and nights having been rather lackluster after all of the excitement of the past week and while it was nice for things to be uneventful, it was also very boring. Crowe hadn't really come up with any other plans to harass the Eldarian... yet.

Wandering around the ship in a bored manner Crowe spied Bacchus seated in the recreation room and decided to stop for a chat. "What's this you have their Bacchus?"

"It is a recent hobby of mine. In a means to improve my coordination with smaller objects I have taken up sewing." Bacchus replied in his bland robotic tone.

"It's rather odd for you to be making clothing, don't you think?" Crowe replied peculiarly interested at this abnormal scene before him.

Bacchus held up the black maid like dress he was currently working on. "I have a wife and so I thought to make her something for when I return someday."

Crowe admired his handiwork. It was well constructed for a robot with large fingers, he was impressed. A sudden idea stuck him acrossed the backside of his head, or maybe that was secretly Arumat throwing things at him again.

"Hey Bacchus, do you think I could have that?" Crowe asked, his idea running rampant in his mind. He now had a means of harassing the death out of the Eldarian.

"I don't mind but… Mr. Crowe I did not realize you were married." Bacchus said as he handed the red-haired man the garment.

"I'm not. It's for me." Crowe said so bluntly a normal person would have killed over in shocked surprise at this admission.

Bacchus was not by any means what one could consider a _normal_ person and his appearance was testament to this fact. Further compounded by his increasingly strange hobbies it was no surprise that the Steel Giant took this in a thoughtful manner. "I see. I will ask no more of it then."

"Do you think you could make other things for me as well?" Crowe inquired more normally than a man really should as he held the maids dress up to his chest in the manner a woman usually does when seeing if it would fit properly.

"I am always willing to try new recipes when the opportunity presents itself." Bacchus answered, his usual cold, calculating voice lacing with a hint of excitement.

"You could have just said yes." Crowe replied. "Well, this is what I'd like to request of you then."

Arumat found it amusing that everyone on board the ship, aside from Crowe and Bacchus were deathly afraid of him and tended to run the other direction when they saw him coming. Even though Crowe had arranged it so they would be roommates, he still preferred the peace and quiet of the storage room.

"Oh Arumat~" The voice of Crowe called as he walked into the room, dressed in what was a black maid's dress with a white apron over it. It hung down to his knees and the rest of the man's legs were adorned in white socks. A black hair band was place on his head. "Your humble servant has come to grant you your desires."

In what would be the first of many instances, Arumat screamed and ran out the door.

"Master, wait for me!" Crowe cried as he began to chase the tall Eldarian around the ship.

It wasn't that big of a ship, but even so, Arumat was determined to get the hell away from him. Oh the dignity. The shame of it all! He never imagined fleeing from anyone in his life but this… it was too much for him.

Arumat ran into the control room, Maid Crowe followed all the while calling out 'Master~ Master' in a feminine voice. They circled around the room and back out the door.

Then Arumat stopped on the opposite end of the table in the recreation room. "Don't you dare come near me!" He threatened.

"Don't be like that Master~ I just want to give you your desires." Crowe continued to speak in a hilarious sounding female voice, a pitch higher than his own with a flowery girly tone. It seemed to be enough to mortify the other man enough to have screamed in a way he wouldn't have thought possible from the strong sullen figure.

Crowe walked around the table to attempt to catch his prey. Arumat circled the other direction. Crowe stopped, and so did Arumat. The two watching the actions of the other, so when Crowe made a move to come at him from the other side, Arumat moved the opposite. After a few lefts and rights, they ended up running circles before stopping a final time.

"I told you I would find a way to kill the death out of you." Crowe said in his normal tone.

Arumat was not amused and it showed with the appearance of that ever present deep frown. Crowe slid acrossed the table to catch him, but Arumat was quicker and jumped onto his back and took off. Sadly Crowe was unable to find the grey haired man for the rest of the day.

This was the start of what would become a daily battle for Arumat and possibly his sanity as he went up against Crowes creative mind. When Crowe's mind was set on something he was not likely to quit.

Operation: Kill Death was now in action.

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A/N: You don't have to kill me for this, Arumat is already threatening to do it. *sweats* I hope you all enjoyed how it's going so far. The chapters will mostly likely be shorter and crazier from here on out.


	4. It Takes All Kinds

_**It Takes All Kinds**_

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In a move of desperation Arumat decided to hide in the corner of the upper level. He had gotten down on all fours and stuck the plant on top of himself, draping his long grey hair over his body in an attempt of camouflage.

While Crowe hadn't seen him on the way up, on the way back he did. It was quite obvious that someone was there hiding against the wall, a certain tall, grey haired Eldarian to be exact. Crowe pretended not to notice and went to stand by the plant. "Oh, where… oh where for art thou Arumat?"

For reasons unknown, expect in Crowe's deranged mind, he had dressed up as Juliet from the famous Shakespeare play. Originally, when he had spoken to Bacchus about making it, the android-human-scientist became interested and he had to recount the jist of the tale to the other who seemed to think that Earthlings were very morbid creatures.

"What a lovely plant." Crowe said as he fussed with the plastic leaves. "Maybe it needs watering."

Arumat listened to the footfalls of the retreating figure and as soon as they became faint he rose up, tossing the plant aside, and attempted to make a run for it, but one of the loops on the side of his jacket was caught by something, or rather someone.

Whether it had been the Eldarian's bad karma or just sheer luck for the captain, a crewmember had excited his quarters to relieve himself, giving Crowe the perfect opportunity to hide to the side while he watched the pale, thin figure of Arumat rose up. Crowe then lunged forward and grabbed onto whatever he could get a hold of.

"What do we have here?" Crowe asked as Arumat struggled to get away, but the captain held fast to the man's jacket.

"Meow~ I'm a cat." Arumat deadpanned.

"Yeah, but cats don't have plants on their heads dear." Crowe answered as Arumat struggled and kicked much like a cat would, the fake plastic plant finally falling off his head.

"Fu-" Arumat began but was hit on the nose lightly by Crowe.

"Cat's don't talk either." Crowe interjected before Arumat could utter a very not nice word.

Arumat merely seethed in quiet anger back at him. For all the world he would have told Crowe exactly what he thought of him, but for a reason no one will ever know, he hadn't. Eldarian's are quiet funny in that aspect.

"Looks like I win for today." Crowe said in triumph as he dragged the obstinate warrior to the room they shared and locked the door behind him.

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_**Just Another Day in Space…**_

Just another day that Arumat had to find a new place to hide.

Today, our sexy silver haired warrior decided to hide in the food storage room. For once in his life, the Eldarian seemed to have caught a break, for plain as day, in the center of the room, sat an empty crate which he took no hesitation to jump into, closing the lid once he had manage to find a somewhat comfortable position inside.

Moments later Arumat could hear the soft swish noise of the room's automatic door opening and then the footfalls of someone entering.

"Oh big brother~ where are you?" Crowe called out in what was supposed to be a young childish voice but came out sounding like Crowe was suffering from a sore throat.

_/Arumat, you make this too easy./_ Crowe internalized as he had been the one to set up the empty box in here. Something about death in a box seemed like too much fun to pass up.

"I wonder where he could have gone…" Crowe spoke loudly to himself as he walked around the closed box. "I will just have to play by myself I suppose."

Today, Crowe was wearing a females Physical Education outfit. A loose, short sleeved white shirt and very short blue shorts. "Hmmm… I wonder what's in this box."

Arumat would have held his breath if he thought it would have done some good, and maybe he should, but that kind of death isn't one he wanted to try just yet.

Crowe sat on top of the box, his legs kicking against the sides violently. The red-haired man pondered if Arumat would rather sufferer suffocation or a manual abridgment of his verbal dictionary, in Apple Cinnamon Edition.

Just what was this strangely named, but delicious sounding dictionary? The world may never know.

"I know a secret~ a secret that I bet that a certain Eldarian wouldn't want anyone to know." Crowe said in a childish singsong voice.

Arumat was about to decimate the box he was currently trapped in and throttle the life out of the man, but questioned whether or not this was a trap to lure him out or if the red-haired man really did know something.

"You see, this certain grey haired man…" Crowe began listening intently to the sounds of Arumat trying to calm his angry inside of the food container. "Takes painstaking care of only one specific part of his body, and that part would be−"

That was the last stroke and Arumat blew the container apart and jumped viciously upon Crowe, covering his mouth. "Not. Another. Word." Arumat roared out each word as if he were a carnivore about to eat his prey.

"There you are~ let's play~" Crowe said grinning, having finally pried the stronger man's hand away from his mouth.

"I refuse!" Arumat said still bitter anger in his voice.

"I'll−" Crowe began but the fire in Arumat's palm, which would soon be a painful fireball to his face cut him short. "I surrender!"

Grinning, which was an uncommon occurrence, Arumat got up from his position on Crowe's midsection, and sauntered out of the room.

It looks like Arumat won this day, but there was always tomorrow.

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A/N: If you noticed, this chapter has a lot of sexual innuendo in it. If you haven't, consider yourself enlightened. If you want to know what the secret is go read "Why Eldarians Wear Earrings." (Thanks and credit to Shiaori as I borrowed her idea here)


	5. Crowe's Private Journal

**_Crowe's Private Journal_**

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Crowe wasn't entirely sure Arumat could be considered helpless in any situation but he was recently finding the illusion more and more alluring. This was the next phase in his harassment mission.

First he must visit his partner in crime to concoct more outfit ideas, which lead Crowe to walking into the man's living quarters unaware of a figure perched inside the air duct above them.

Bacchus was sitting on the bed, constructing a new outfit while singing something that sounded as he were trying to tell the red-haired man something, or maybe that was pure coincidence.

"How 'bout the way he acts? Oh no! That's not the way!" Bacchus belted out in his robotic monotone way, which sounded like a metal cutting blade cutting something it wasn't exactly designed for. "You're not listenin' to all I'm sayin'!"

"I'm trying not to." Crowe remarked, and apparently was not heard by the Morphus as he kept on singing in an off-key, metal grinding in a bad way tone.

"If you wanna know~ If he loves you so~ It's in his kiss!" Bacchus rang out in a deep, disastrous monotone that made Crowe put his hands up to his ears. "Mr. Crowe, I did not know you were here." The Steel Giant said a bit embarrassed at having been caught in his enjoyment at such a song, and held up the dress to distract the captain into perhaps not mentioned it.

"A red saffron dress?" Crowe asked with mild curiosity, thankful that his action had caught the others attention before he broke into chorus.

"The other day while I was seated here a book happened to fall down from the vent and being that I am an ever curious scientist, and the book held no indication of what it was, I decided to give in to my curiosity and read it." Bacchus replied with more emotion in his voice then the captain had ever heard him express.

"Go on…" Crowe replied a bit worried about where this was going.

"One of the pages was marked with a recipe card." Bacchus replied handing both the book and card to Crowe who took it.

Crowe's jaw instantly dropped to the ground in alarm. "This is…"

"There was, in that bookmarked place, as you would surely know, a very vivid story in which there was a red dress and viking horns." Bacchus continued much to Crowes further alarm.

"Er… you didn't show this to anyone else did you?" Crowe asked shifty eyed.

"No. You should take better care of hiding your private journal in the future Mr. Crowe." Bacchus replied and then handed him the dress.

A figure jumped down from vent and tore the dress out of Crowes hands. "I refuse to be ridden in a dress and horns!" Arumat cried out as he ran off with the dress as quickly as he had entered.

The two were left there with their mouths open in utter surprise. Bacchus then turned toward Crowe, a very obvious question on his mind.

"I'm not going to rape him, despite what you may or may _not_ have read." Crowe said, acting very much like Arumat, crossing his arms arossed his chest and frowned.

"Surprise sex is not acceptable either, Mr. Crowe." Bacchus reminded him wishing he never had read about Crowes idea of a good time.

"I wasn't gonna!" Crowe replied sharply and figured that anything more said would just incriminate him further so he left.

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**_Counter Productive_**

"What do you do at a red light?" Welch asked as she appeared.

For reasons Crowe would never understand, every item inventor was named Welch. The one his ship was assigned with was a bit on the kinky side, but according to other accounts they all seemed to be this way. This Welch had long sky blue hair and wore a body shaping black dress that ended at her upper thighs. She also had a flat chest which he was never sure was intentionally done or not. It was, after all, just a 3D model.

"Stop." Crowe answered and was about to say more but the women merely held up her hand to stop him.

"Hammerzeit!" Welch said and started to do the hammer dance, which confused the hell out of Crowe as he knew nothing of the great past which included a lot of things that they were all better off not knowing about.

"That's nice and all but when you finish I want to ask you about this mysterious recipe card." Crowe said and placed it in the girl's outstretched hand.

"Oh yeah, this was made the other day. Aru-chan came in here to do it. Threatened my life, tried to murder me a few times, I think by that point he remembered he couldn't and told me if I said anything he'd virus up my programming." Welch, with the annoying voice that seemed like it would consume your soul if you listened to for too long, babbled on.

"Aru-chan?" Crowe hadn't heard whatever else Welch had babbled about because the nickname stroked his thoughts. This nickname was both strange in a comical way and insulting at the same time. It also gave him another idea.

Leaving the inventor woman to her ranting Crowe stepped arrogantly out into the yellow light of the hallway and admired Arumat's chest. "Ah." He signed. "That's an arousing sight."

Arumat glared daggers at him, but then cocked his head to the side as the red haired man was dressed normally today. It appears he was safe, and had been for a few days strangely enough. Maybe his harassment was over Crowe was close to admitting defeat.

"Hey, Master-chan." Crowe called out in the normal way one would get the attention of another.

"Don't mock me, unless you want a knife to the face." Arumat replied in his usual cold antisocial manner.

"Knife? Don't you−" Crowe began and if he had been any slower at dodging would have gotten one hell of a scar on his face, as Arumat had thrown one of the retractable blades from his scythe at him.

"Aren't _you_ the captain of this ship?" Arumat replied as he continued to tinker with his weapon. "I wouldn't mind taking over if you think you've lost your sanity." Arumat grinned in a rare moment of contentment.

It had been a while since the Eldarian felt a somewhat decent state of being. He refused to call it peace, as peace only came with death. He wouldn't label it as contentment either as that would be admitting he enjoyed being here, which he refused to do to. Even if that was the case, owning up to it would only end badly. He was surprised Crowe hadn't died mysteriously yet.

At least as a captain Arumat would wear more appropriate clothing then the one Crowe used to read about as child and less of a sociopath now that he thought about it. "How about Aruchan?"

"Maybe I won't miss on purpose this time." Arumat replied seriously, his golden eyes blazing with bloodlust. Crowe was a little unsettled by this, but didn't show it outwardly.

"Aruaru?" Crowe suggested trying to tempt fate as it was never a good idea to annoy the silver haired Eldarian when he was in a seemingly dangerous mood.

"What am I? Your dog?" Arumat replied slowly, dark humor in his voice. It would be just like Crowe to dress up as a dog or other such animal and it surprised him that he hadn't yet.

"No, but you could be." Crowe responded back.

"There is no way that I would _ever_ do that." Arumat said his attention mostly on what he was doing, having only looked up at the captain once.

"Seriously question this time." Crowe said holding up his hands in surrender. Arumat made a little noise but Crowe ignored it. "Isn't it counterproductive to make a recipe card, give it to Bacchus without really giving it to him, and then stealing it at the last moment?"

"I got my point acrossed." Arumat said curtly. "Not only do I know all your secrets, so does that tin can in there."

"You really hate me knowing about that don't you?" Crowe replied. It wasn't his fault that Bacchus was a storehouse of information and it wasn't his fault that he just happened to ask the Steel Giant about Eldarian weaknesses.

Arumat glared heated at him, strong enough to strike him dead. That was enough to answer Crowe's question. It almost made him want to try it just for curiosities sake, but he also really did not want to die either, as he was very certain the Eldarian would not hesitate to do it considering the mood he was in.

"I haven't given up yet." Crowe said determined. "I'll harass the death out of you eventually."

"If what you have done so far is any indication, I don't believe this will be over anytime soon, but suit yourself if you want to continue with your idiotic plan." Arumat said still in his cold unfriendly tone.

* * *

A/N: I hope you've enjoyed the story so far, and there are many more adventures to be had! Let me know what you think with review please.


	6. Collective Item Space

_**Collective Item Space**_

* * *

The very next day the grey haired Eldarian and the red-haired Earthling were back to their cat and mouse game. Arumat was in his usual mood of looking for hiding places before Crowe sprang up with another of his idiotic ideas to traumatize him. Him of all people! Whose very name was an anagram of this fact.

While in his scouting of the ship and the not so many other places to hide that Crowe didn't know about, he saw Bacchus and got an interesting idea.

"Bacchus." Arumat said spying the man in his quarters, seated on one of the beds in the room, a basket full of sewing supplies next to him, materials and different cloth types strewn messily about the room.

"Mr. Arumat, can I be of assistance to you?" Bacchus replied ever so polite for an android as he looked up at the intimidating force towering before him.

"Yes, I think you can." Arumat replied and opening the man's chest plate climbed in and closed the door.

Surprisingly, the inside was more spacious then it looked, almost as if he had fallen into some type of storage room. Items, weapons, accessory and all manner of objects were tossed about. The Eldarian did always wonder where all those pointless items that people tended to carry around went. The collective item space as it were, was located inside Bacchus's chest.

"Say anything and I'll dismantle you from the inside." Arumat echoed a warning which reverberated throughout the small, yet spacious metal storage area.

"As you say, Mr. Arumat." Bacchus replied and returned to making his newest outfit, signing 'Staying Alive' and other such songs he had picked up from a stray satellite some time ago.

The man's tone deaf voice echoed though the item storage/chest cavity of the machine like android, and after some time Arumat had begun to kick, pound, and slice at the inside of the Steel Giant, groaning and yelling in agony at the tortured he inflicted upon himself all in the means of having a hiding place.

* * *

A/N: Apologizes for any grammar/spells errors in these fics as I am my own beta and we all tend to make mistakes.


	7. Giant Pink Marshmallow

_**Giant Pink Marshmallow**_

* * *

When life gets complicated, the only real cure is to load up on heinous chemicals and then drive like a bastard from Hollywood to Vegas. To relax… in the roasting desert sun… just rolling back the roof and… Whoops wrong plot line.

So where was I? Oh yes…

Arumat had awoken (even though he hardly sleeps but lets just pretends he sleeps like a normal person for the sake of things) feeling refreshed (okay, not really) and that something was inconsistent from the norm. He felt a little warmer then he usual did upon waking, as he slept with only his pants on the room should have been nice and cool. To make things even more incongruous he felt a certain… fuzziness to him that was hard to explain.

Attempting to climb out of bed he was met with what this strange warm fuzzy feeling was. Looking down at himself he noticed he had grown pink fur. The Eldarian pulled at the fuzzy, warm fur like fabric that seemed to be stuck onto him.

Yes, folks, Arumat had become a bunny. Or more correctly, someone had, in the middle of night when he was asleep, placed this atrocity of an outfit onto him. He knew exactly who it was and made a grab for his scythe, but found it wasn't there and begin to curse loudly.

Crowe and Bacchus laughed from the room acrossed the hall at this, and they knew soon enough the man would come charging in there ever so furious and looking to kill.

A bunny, with the extremely cute lion face (or colon three if you prefer the term) was hard-pressed to be anything but extremely adorable (or extremely creepy if you are afraid of gigantic pink marshmallows). Arumat bounced into the room, just as they expected he would and began to spew out such words that they would have, in other games, came out as a lot of symbols, like the percent and ampersand.

"Oh, a bunny how cute." Crowe said as he went to pet the bunny on the head trying his best to not laugh and look totally innocent as he spoke.

Arumat replied with a lot of not nice words that I am sure you can all imagine and demanded to know where his wicked looking tool of death and destruction went.

"Say bunny, you wouldn't happen to know where my honey bunches of oats Arumat is, would you?" Crowe responded as if the bunny hadn't said a word.

Arumat responded with the best two words in the English language.

"What's that bunny? I didn't quite hear you?" Crowe said ignoring the man's heated glare that threatened to burn him like the very fires of hell.

Arumat would have kicked the man if he wasn't so…. useless in this outfit of overly large feet, a fluffy tail that was useful for when riding on and long pink and green ears.

"What do bunnies say?" Crowe said as he patted down on the bunnies head.

Arumat, knowing that he could have stood there and cussed, shouted, and yelled until he died decided to stand there and pout (yes, _pout_. Which made him even more deathly cute). He would have crossed his arms over his chest but his arms now consisted of small nubs which he could only wave around about as useless as anything else he could do at the moment.

"Oh, is Mr. Bunny hungry? Is that why he isn't talking?" Crowe replied cracking a smile. It wouldn't take long for him to bust out laughing and completely ruin everything.

Arumat wasn't stubborn, he was just fiercely determined to beat the crap out of Crowe the moment he was able to and thus said nothing, turning his head away from the man.

"Whose your snuggle bunny!" Crowe asked as he continued to pet the bunny on the head. He could see the man fuming and fire just might consume him any moment if he wasn't careful.

"Alright, I'll let you out of there, but only if you make the bunny sound." Crowe said in all seriousness.

Arumat again told Crowe what he thought about this, summing it up in the same two words as before.

"Well, I'll just have to ride you around the ship then." Crowe said getting a piece of rope that he would use as reigns.

"M-Mooonnnfoooon." Arumat said flushing several shades of red. The one thing he would never stand for was being ridden around like a fool, bunny suit or not.

After escaping from the hellish prison of the bunny suit Arumat harshly demanded to have his weapon returned.

"It's stored safely here… in Bacchus's chest." Crowe indicated and opened the robotic man's chest plate.

Arumat did not hesitate at all, though perhaps he should have, to dive in and retrieve his weapon. However, the two weren't about to let him back out, as they very much wanted to keep their lives intact.

The Eldarian furiously pounded, beat and sliced up the inside of Bacchus in passionate fury, pretty much destroying every item they had in there currently as well. It was a good thing the room was indestructible or Bacchus would be in some serious trouble.

Thus another not so peaceful space day had ended, just has it began, someone screaming out in the deep of space.

* * *

A/N: This will be the last silly one for a while. The next couple chapters are a bit darker and more serious, but I promise to write a few more silly ones before this fic is over.


	8. Medicine

A/N: A word or warning: From here on out the chapters are going to be a bit more racy and violent, and will most likely take a turn for the perverse. If things seems a bit weirder or OOC than usual, I apologize, I've never actually done two aggressive minded people before, so I hope it'll all turn out as well as I'm hoping.

* * *

**_Medicine_**

Crowe stepped out of his quarters wearing a short pink dress that buttoned down the front. It had red trim and he wore red stockings to match. The addition of a blazing red garter belt was visible on one leg. While he had wanted a white nurses uniform, he supposed he couldn't complain all that much about it as Bacchus, who made the outfit, decidedly thought pink was his color. It was too late to change his mind however, as he already had the perfect accessory for it.

The red-haired man was carrying a very large syringe. He was planning on teasing Arumat with the idea of an _injection_ and knowing that the Eldarian disliked needles it would be a fair trade, seeing as he loathed the color pink.

Arumat was hiding in one of the crewmembers closets and how Crowe knew this was anyone's guess. Crowe poked his overly large needle into each one until the grey-haired man either jumped out or got stabbed.

"…Are you familiar with the term 'coming out of the closet?" Crowe replied each time he stepped into a room, eventually one of these would have to be _the_ room.

"I'm going to kill you for that." Arumat growled out, thrusting his scythe though the closed closet door, destroying it. Crowe used the syringe itself as a weapon, saving himself from what would have been a rather nasty cut.

"Trying to give me an identical scar?" Crowe asked, teasingly. This seemed to aggravate the grey haired man even more as he threw the disconnecting pieces of his weapon toward the other in its usual boomerang style.

Their blades clashed with pearls of thunder and hurricane gales while the ground shook at their feet, or would have if it didn't look so much like a comical stage play with Arumat flinging his scythe and destroying half the room, and Crowe fighting back with the absurdly huge syringe that was filled with lime jello, counting the strikes. They then maneuvered themselves into the hallway, attacking and guarding the whole way though.

Continuously, it went on for a while before Crowe decided to speak up. "So, when do we get to the angry sex part?"

"Count yourself lucky that I know you're joking." Arumat replied impassively, still unrelenting in their makeshift hallway fight.

"What makes you think I am?" Crowe asked as he jumped high to avoid the slice of the man's scythe that was aimed at his midsection.

"Heh. Well, aren't you?" Arumat replied amused, bringing his weapon around to cut him from above which Crowe barely missed as he was falling back down from his prior jump.

"Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not." Crowe replied making a move with his saber to attack the man's midsection, which was blocked. "Let's call a truce and see."

Arumat stopped and drew his weapon to rest on his shoulder. "You're an idiot."

"I can agree to that, who else would fight you in a nurse outfit?" Crowe replied. "Maybe I'll even let you take the prize." He said placing a finger into the garter and then snapping the elastic band to gain the man's attention.

"True enough." Arumat replied directing his gaze elsewhere. "I'll call your bluff."

Crowe stood there perplex, he hadn't exactly expected Arumat to be in such a complacent mood, expecting something along the lines of his usual aloofness and continual treats of his life, and of course something about death, as the man could hardly go a few hours with mentioning it.

The red-haired man grinned getting an idea. Arumat rose an eyebrow in suspicious as he had been watching the other out of the corner of his eye. "Say, Arumat…"

"What? You finally decided to prove that bluff of yours instead of fidgeting over there like a man on his first date?" Arumat replied having noticed the two were at quite a distance, but that was true with anyone he was around, as the Eldarian valued his personal space.

"I am not fidgeting!" Crowe said defensively. "…And was that an admittance that you want to date me?"

"Didn't you have something to ask? Or do you just like to call out my name?" Arumat replied, ignoring the last remark. His voice held a hint of dark humor that tended to comes out as unintentionally arousing.

"You're the one hesitating. Weren't you supposed to come over here and see if I was bluffing or not?" Crowe replied but Arumat gave him a 'are you kidding' look. "Unless you're afraid of me."

Arumat grinned. The Earthling had guts, that much was certain. "Very well." He replied placing his weapon against the wall, a sign of truce as Crowe himself had placed his weapons away beforehand, and then began to approach the other.

Quickly, so as not to be suspected that he would do such a thing, Crowe reached out and yanked on the man's ponytail drawing him close enough and using it as a deterrent so that he could yank one of the grey-haired man's ears. At least that had been the plan but, as it turned out, the moment Crowe had grasped that ponytail of his the man had backed away. Crowe was propelled forward, and Arumat backwards. In a rare fit of frenzy, the Eldrian tripped over himself and ended up falling flat on his back with Crowe falling on top of his well toned chest in quite an uncomfortable manner.

"Get off me!" Arumat cried furiously, fighting to get up and Crowe as nervous and restless as he was, ended up looking rather silly, squirming about in a near panic.

"Better yet, don't." Arumat replied darkly after moments of watching the other figure on top of him. He had noticed something peculiar and amusing about this situation, and reaching up he grabbed the front of the man's outfit to keep him where he was.

"Ah, I really don't want to die today." Crowe replied almost breathlessly, his body still impatiently moving around, trying to get off Arumat's battered chest. He was now sitting on the man's lower abdomen with his legs sprawled out on either side of the man's chest. It was an odd position to be sure since it hiked up the dress like uniform, showing off his upper thighs and the tops of the fishnets he still wore, even more so with the man grabbing at what little cloth there was.

Arumat drew in a slow, calming breath, as he detested contact with others, especially now, with a very indecent Crowe on top of him. He noticed how jumpy the other man was acting, and it was the first time he'd ever seen the Earthling in this type of distress. This panic, clearly written on the man's face, didn't seem to be from the lewd and awkwardness of almost exposing his licentious undergarments. It was almost as if…

"…You pulled my hair." Arumat pouted, clearly offended that the man would do such a thing, the grip on the front of the outfit tightening. It made them both nervous, as Arumat disliked any type of intimacy, and Crowe because it furtively turned him on.

"…And now you're going to mope like a girl about it?" Crowe replied being yanked forward, the momentum of the tugging on his clothing pulling him that way despite how much he would rather not.

"I am not moping!" Arumat growled at him, his hot breath wafting acrossed Crowe's face making him shiver, though not in fear. The Eldarian was too close for Crowe's comfort, the breath of life on the red-haired man's skin made him slightly pink in the face.

Crowe tugged lightly on the ponytail again even though he would rather get up, but if he did Arumat would mostly likely make a comment about him being a coward. There was also the bluff, the angry sex comment that he had to adhere to.

Arumat reached up with his other hand and pulled on Crowe's hair. "How do you like having _your_ haired pulled?"

"What if I told you it turns me on?" Crowe joked despite the fact it came out as if he had just ran a one-hundred meter dash.

"Clearly, or you wouldn't be so out of breath." Arumat responded back, pulling at the red-haired mans front bangs in amusement. He didn't exactly like the man on top of him and it still bothered him, but he didn't want to be taunted by the other for letting go.

Crowe pulled back, tugging roughly on the soft silver ponytail held fast in his hand as if it were some tug-o-war game. "Stop that."

Arumat pulled again on the side of the other man's bangs. "What's with these pink marks in your hair? Bad dye job?"

Crowe aggressively pulled on the tail of silvered hair. "That's not what we're talking about here!"

Arumat flinched at the sharp tug. "Don't pull so hard you amateur." Then he yanked just as hard back, anger coming back into his voice again.

"Ow! Be gentle with me Aru-nii~" Crowe teased. His body reacting in a way he'd rather it not from the action and hoping that the Eldarian wouldn't notice.

"Are you trying to make me upset?" Arumat questioned darkly. "Because you know… I could easily get you back for that."

"Can you now? Someone who hates being around others?" Crowe asked slightly panting, trying not to give away just how bothered he was getting from all this horseplay.

"Or maybe I already have. You seem awfully… _fidgety_." Arumat replied grinning darkly up at him, hand still gripping the front of the uniform tightly, almost like a death grip. Despite the uneasy positioning the two were in, he was having far too much fun to let the other man go, especially now that he found a weakness to exploit.

Crowe's only response was to tug harder on the older man's hair which made the Eldarian resound with a deep guttural roar that made Crowe's breath catch in his throat. "You realize I could just as easily lean down and tug on that ear of yours?"

"Do it and I'll kill you." Arumat threatened darkly, his golden eyes gleaning up at him in a frightening manner that got Crowe to think better of it and let go of the man's hair.

"I don't think today is a very good day to die." Crowe responded nervously and made a movement to get up but was forced back down by the powerful grip of Eldarian's hand. "What now?"

"Where's that angry sex you promised me before? Or was that, as I said, a bluff?" Arumat said bemused, holding fast to the man's clothing. He had gotten a brief glance up Crowe's uniform as he made the movement to get up, discovering that he had in fact won for the day. He wouldn't have imagined the Earthling to be so easily excitable by the stimulation of hair pulling and being so close to his own scarred, pale body.

Crowe nervously laughed. "How about we settle for the prize instead?"

Arumat raised an eyebrow at him, and then turned his gaze to the garter belt on his upper thigh. "I suppose you're going to tell me I must use my teeth?"

Crowe went as red as his hair at the suggestion.

"Now you know how I feel. Payback's a bitch, isn't it?" Arumat said and let go of the front of the pink nurse uniform. Grabbing onto the garter belt, he used it as leverage to pick up and lift the red-haired man and then sent him flying backwards to land on his rear inches away.

Laughing in dark amusement Arumat got up and left the room, leaving Crowe half-sitting, half-lying there, his uniform hiked up to his waist, the hot and bothered state he was in clearly visible though the red panties he was wearing.


	9. Coffee Mug

**_Coffee Mug_**

All too often the days started off quietly, with Arumat hugging a mug of Crowe's specially made coffee. At first Arumat had hesitated drinking anything the man dubbed as his _specialty,_ thinking it was a means of entrapment.

"Once you taste this you will never want to drink anything else again. It's that good." Crowe had said one morning as he sleepy stood next to Arumat who was sizing up the coffee pot as if he were trying to judge its strength and possibly dismantle it.

Crowe had noticed the man's intense stare at the object and his sleep addled mind couldn't imagine why, other than the fact that maybe Arumat was waiting for permission or perhaps some means of a container to pour this freshly brewed liquid into. Then his rational mind told him, even in its near wakeful state that Arumat never needed permission for anything. Thus he decided to offer his friendly opinion on the matter.

"I would rather not." Arumat replied never relenting in his glare at this offending object as if it has somehow wronged him, not even looking up when Crowe had spoken to him.

"Come on, at least try it once." Crowe suggested nudging him, wondering why the Eldarian was so caught up in it but refused to have anything to do with it at the same time.

"No." Arumat replied coldly, an odd contrast to the heat the pot was giving off.

"I swear on my grave that I have not added anything wonky to it. It's just coffee." Crowe said as he nudged the man away enough so that he could grab the pot and pour some into his mug.

"What part of no don't you understand?" Arumat said finally looking away, watching the captain in his action of pouring the liquid into the ceramic mug then looked straight into the man's grey tinted eyes that were still hazy from sleep.

"Well, I can clearly see you're uninterested. Maybe it could kill you. This is some pretty strong and dangerous coffee." Crowe added waving the cup around, the liquid swooshing around in the cup as he did so, clearly not convinced and trying to find out what exactly the Eldarian was doing as he seemed to be memorized by the dark hued liquid.

Arumat raised his eyebrow curiously at Crowe's sudden change of tactics, his golden eyes drawing up to the mans grey eyes again before going back down to stare at the liquid that was now changing into a caramel color with the addition of cream and sugar.

"Mmm… yeah." Crowe said taking a big sip. His mug was a ceramic, maroon hued coffee cup that read 'Good Coffee, Cheaper than Prozac' on it.

"What's Prozac?" Arumat asked his eyes still on the cup and its seemingly innocent liquid refreshment.

"Hmm?" Crowe hummed as Arumat pointed to the phase on his cup. "It's a drug that treats depression. If you had some of this coffee here, you'd be a totally different person. Come to think of it, maybe it is a bad idea for you to have some. I'm quite fond of that violent, stubborn, assholish personality of yours."

Maybe if the Eldarian dream had been prescription drugs and a manicure they wouldn't have had so many crazy defects running around hell bent on destroying themselves.

Arumat reached over and grabbed the cup out of Crowes hand and without hesitation drained all of the caramel hued liquid before placing the empty cup back into his hand, all within seconds and completely deadpan the whole way though.

"…You really drank it." Crowe replied, disbelief written all over face.

Arumat gave a small chuckle. "Heh. You are something else, you know that?" In all honestly, Arumat had never tasted coffee. He thought it was a pointless waste of time, and with his body the way it was, fed on the lust and heat for battle he ill needed the caffeine.

"So, good coffee right?" Crowe asked as he fixed himself another cup. It was a good thing he usually made extra.

"Better than dangerous cider I suppose." Arumat said shrugging. It wasn't half bad and had found the substance strangely addicting. After that, he had begun to join Crowe in his morning ritual of drinking it.

The next morning and Crowe and Arumat were seated at the kitchen table, Crowe helping himself to a bowl of oatmeal, and also making one for his alien friend as well.

"Have you ever dug through a box of raisin bran to get the raisins out, and just when you start thinking they're almost all gone you dig deeper and find a bunch more? And then when those are gone you keep looking and you find more again? And this keeps going on?" Crowe asked as he finished with his first spoonful of oats.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Arumat said idly stirring his spoon around in the bowl before him.

"You're like a balloon that gets filled up with too much water." Crowe replied after licking his spoon clean. He then pointed it in the older man's direction. "The balloon bursts and the water spills all over."

"Why does that sound like you're make a lewd suggestion?" Arumat asked as he continued to distractively stare at the bowl, twisting the spoon around in the sticky substance. He was never fond of eating and hardly ever touched whatever was placed before him, no matter how much the Earthling insisted.

Crowe just shrugged. "I'm just saying you don't have to bottle up your emotions so much. It's bad for you, though I guess all that training you tend to do would help with that."

"Not really." Arumat replied staring blankly into the bowl, his hand his stopped in its restless stirring.

"Talking to you is like repeatedly slamming myself up against a wall. Painful and makes me want to stop." Crowe added wondering what the man was thinking so hard about this early in the day.

"Good." Arumat said completely uninterested.

"It wouldn't _kill_ you to have a normal conversation with me." Crowe said almost wanting to take that bowl away from him and diverted his attention from the obvious dark thoughts the man was having.

"You already know what I think, should I repeat it for you? Better yet, maybe I should just kill you and save myself the trouble of having my bad karma do it for me." Arumat replied as he slammed the spoon down into the bowl so hard it shattered. Shards of ceramic and oats began to cover the table.

"Well…" Crowe said standing up. In times like these there was only one solution. "It appears that the time for argumentative discussion has passed. Draw your weapon and defend yourself, incestuous dog!"

Arumat had to laugh at the absurdity of the man's words. "So, you wish to challenge me seriously this time?"

"Haven't you been wanting to for a while now? I can see it in your eyes." Crowe replied, jutting a finger at the silver haired figure before him. "A strange glint, almost as if lusting for battle."

Arumat drew up a cane from beneath the table and poked him in the chest with it. A first for him, as his blood didn't seem to be in the mood for battle, but he blamed that on his recent bout of insomnia. He was also too bored to bother with such things, as a battle against the red-haired man would just end up in the same lewd nonsensical manner as last time, and if he were to fight him, he wanted a serious battle, not the hank-panky of child's play.

"…Where did you get that?" Crowe asked confused. "It's not really your style to use anything but that wicked weapon of yours."

"I found it. It's interesting." Arumat replied in a bored fashion. He pushed it forward again, the end of it poking Crowe in the midsection for the second time.

Crowe lightly knocked it away. "Found? Where? You didn't synth that did you?"

Arumat swung it back over and nudged him in the shoulder with it. "Does it matter?"

Crowe pushed it away glaring at him. "No, I guess not."

Arumat beat him against the other shoulder with it. "Good."

"Would you stop that!" Crowe cried pushing the cane away for the fifth time.

"Why? Is it bothering you?" Arumat asked, his voice laced with that sinister darkness that usually made him frightening, even more sinister with that all too rare grin on his face.

"Yes!" Crowe cried as he pushed the cane out of the way before it hit him.

Arumat swung it back and brutally beat it upon Crowe's legs knocking him down. Crowe hadn't expected him to be as violent with it as it seemed he was only content on teasing, with the light nudges he had been doing before.

"Ow! Hey! What did I do to deserve that?" Crowe asked scrambling back up to his feet looking miffed.

Arumat took this moment to reach acrossed the table and steal the man's coffee cup. While taking a drink he swung the cane around to poke the other man in the ribs, back to his light poking jabs, tilting the cane away when Crowe went to swat at it, then moved it back to poke at him again.

"The first taste is sinful." Crowe said jokingly as he played tag with the cane, receiving a lot of pokes and plods in his failed attempts to get the Eldarian to stop.

Arumat wordlessly took a second, bigger sip of the man's coffee. His cup this time black with white lettering that read 'Whoever said that there are no guarantees in life has clearly never tried coffee.' The Eldarian had to wonder if maybe the man was trying to tell him something with this.

"The second taste is brutal!" Crowe replied. He was a little miffed that he had to dig out a second cup from his closet because the Eldarian found it necessary to keep stealing them. The Earthling had a developed a fondness for cups with snazzy catch phases on them and it seemed he might have to dig up another one for tomorrow as he doubted the silver-haired man was about to return the one he had in his hand.

Arumat continued teasing him, jabbing the hard metal end of the silver cane all over the younger man's body teasingly and grinned as he watched the younger man flail his arms about. The Eldarian also had faster relaxes which helped.

"The third frees your souuuuuuuuuuuul~" Crowe sung as Arumat gulped down the rest of the coffee. Usually it would only take between two and three swallows as the Eldarian had learned how painfully hot it was to take it all in one gulp.

There's a joke somewhere up there in that sentence you realize, but those kinds of racy desires come much later, and very occasionally in a certain red-haired man's dreams, which he continued to write in his diary, which also continued to get stolen by a certain Walking Storage Unit, which continued to be read by a certain sexually frustrated Eldarian. Crowe blame his increasingly vivid dreams on a certain grey-haired individual who thought it was funny to poke him in certain places in the middle of the night, waking him up and asking if he was 'randy'. Next time he was going to say yes and attack the man instead of just giving him an extremely confused and uncomfortable look before he took to sauntering out the door, quite sexually he might add.

"Clearly, as I think I may have finally died and gone to hell." Arumat replied swinging the cane up and around to strike the red-haired man in the backs of the legs.

"Ow! You're getting wickedly good at using that thing, you realize." Crowe cried, thoughtfully informing the other man that he did not enjoy being smacked around.

Arumat struck him again, harder this time, forcing the man's legs to give way.

"That really hurt you know. Honestly! You fight like a woman!" Crowe responded as he landed on his back for the third time.

"Do I now? I wonder how hard it would be to murder someone with this." Arumat replied leering down dangerously, waving the cane about threateningly.

From his position, back lying on metal floor of his ship, the yellow lights almost blinding him from above, it seemed like the Eldarian's eyes had changed colors slightly, looking more like an olive green.

"Maybe it's just me… but…" Crowe began as he hauled himself up into a sitting potion and meeting the end of a cane on his forehead. "Did your eyes just change color?"

"You must be delirious." Arumat said licking his lips and pushing the man over with his cane. "All this poking must have made you randy."

"W-what! It certainly has not!" Crowe exclaimed sitting back up and meeting the end of the cane for the second time. He knocked it away with a movement of his hand.

"Shall I pound you into submission and make you my bitch?" Arumat replied chuckling darkly. He swung the cane back and forth over the man's body as if he were taunting him.

Perhaps Crowe shouldn't have made the coffee extra strong as he was starting to regret it, having known that the Eldarian would mostly likely steal it. He hardly ever got to enjoy it anymore what with the silver-haired man whoring it all to himself nowadays. "Isn't that my line? Since when do you take to stealing my flirtatious jokes?"

"You haven't answered me yet." Arumat replied a bit heatedly, his body perking up from all the caffeine in his system. He slammed the cane down between the man's legs. "Well, do I make you randy?"

Crowe made an uncomfortable noise in his throat. "Of course not."

"I'll just have to try harder then." Arumat replied darkly and he got up, standing over the other and pushing him back down to the floor with the cane, pinning him down with it pressing firmly into the center of his chest. "How do you like to do it?"

"Are you seriously asking me that, or are you just trying to get back at me from the other day when I grabbed your ear as you came around the corner?" Crowe asked, trying to his best not to look defeated as he laid there on his back, the silver cane tapping on his chest like a heartbeat.

"Maybe a little of both." Arumat asked ignoring Crowe's question, finding the red-haired man's pained reactions to the increased pressure he was now putting on him slightly arousing.

Crowe flinched as Arumat decided to twist the cane into his chest. "I think all that caffeine is going to your head."

"I'm not the one who likes to parade around in woman's clothing, wearing lip balm." Arumat added dragging the cane down the Earthlings clothed chest to poke lightly at the man's naughty bits.

"Hey, lip balm is important! Not only do my lips look better, they taste better, too." Crowe replied as his body twitched and convulsed from the light but firm pressure on his genitals. Of all the days to wear something as casual as jeans and a t-shirt, it had to be the one day when the man would threaten to molest him, oddly enough.

"Really?" Arumat asked, a dangerous sensual look in those yellow, almost green tinted eyes of his. Crouching down close to the other, he began to run a finger slowly crossed the carnation hued skin of Crowe's bottom lip.

"I'm not wearing any today." Crowe added slightly rattled and fearing that maybe the Eldarian would do something drastic, like kiss him.

After that whole hair pulling incident Crowe had realized that being close quarters was something he wanted to try to avoid, if he could help it, a least in these types of situations, when the air was heavy with sexual tension. It would only be a matter of time before he would get caught up in the moment, and do something he would regret. Not only would he be fearing for his life afterwards, but crush any hope of bringing down those oh so carefully constructed barriers the Eldarian had raised around himself.

"A waste of my time then." Arumat chided as if he was put off by that admittance. Raising himself up and giving the younger man a final poke in the midsection he walked off.

Once again Crowe found himself overly aroused and in need of a long shower.


	10. Boot to the Head

_**Boot to the Head**_

* * *

The day started out as it often usually did, Crowe in his quarters, trying on a new women's fetish outfit to surprise torture his reversed emo comrade.

"What do you think Bacchus?" Crowe asked as he adjusted the bunny ear band on his head.

"It's… strange that you would pick such an _unusual_ outfit, Mr. Crowe."

Indeed, as a male wasn't designed for tight bodysuits, having certain parts of themselves that were extremely hard to hide.

"I'm fond of the tail myself." Crowe said as he admired his form in the mirror, fluffing the small cotton tail on the backside of the red bodysuit that looked very similar to a one piece bathing suit. In addition to this he was also wearing fishnet stockings, and yes, he had also decided to shave his legs for the occasion. Though he doubted anyone would truly notice such a small detail.

"The high heels are a bit much, don't you think Mr. Crowe?" Bacchus said and considered the figure which would now tower over Arumat, though not by much.

"I was thinking the same thing, but maybe Arumat is the type that likes to be crushed with heels." Crowe said and shrugged, looking down to admire the red high heeled shoes that he had somehow mysteriously received the previous day. Ah, the wonders of ENII's shopping network.

"I foresee that you will have a reasonably difficult time walking while wearing those. There is also the greater increased difficulty of running as well." Bacchus warned as he watched Crowe attempt to walk around looking very much like an extremely drunken man, wobbling and tumbling about with each step.

"Could take them off and throw them like a weapon. Heel Boomerang!" Crowe cried as he bent down, took one off and threw it acrossed the room. It hit the wall with a loud clank. "I think I'll still wear them, as my deathly friend will most likely be hiding someplace, maybe with a good position to step on him and see if he enjoys it."

"I am starting to question your sanity, Mr. Crowe." Bacchus replied having just been subjected to trauma of his own as Crowe happened to bend down in front of him, giving the robotic man a shot of his ass he'd rather not have seen.

"Me to, let me know if you find it. I think I've lost it somewhere on this ship." Crowe replied and then walked unsteadily out of the room to find the newest hiding place that death had chosen for the day.

The grey-haired man was not in the air duct, nor in his quarters. Checking downstairs he opened the emergency panel (illogical as it was, being way too small to even fit himself in there) then under the table, and behind the bar. "Come out, come out, where ever you are~" Crowe sang out, almost as if he had a case of cabin fever himself.

He looked up to see if maybe there was an air duct in the rec. room ceiling, no dice, then checked in the control room where all the crew men where hiding out, none of them wanting to look at him for fear of further mental trauma. The crew usually tended to hide here, daring not to go anywhere else as they, to, started to doubt the man's sanity as of late. Though sane as he may seem giving orders, they would rather lock themselves here then risk the seeing Crowe cross-dressing so openly.

Crowe proceeded to check the food storage room and some of the open, empty boxes but again nothing was there. Having gained a good amount of balance from all the walking around had been doing, he steadily sauntered into the supply storage area, hoping his object of self-anguish would be hidden in there as he had not caught him in that area yet, but sadly it was empty.

The captain was running out of places to look, and surely the Eldarian had to be hidden someplace and he didn't think the man would hide in the same place twice. He had heard the story of how Arumat decided to hide within Bacchus but whenever he began to question it Arumat changed subjects or acted as if he hadn't heard him, giving him an extremely nasty glare that meant it was something he should never, ever ask.

So, just where was his hunny bunny hiding today? Crowe would find out even if it killed… his feet. There was no place in this ship that he didn't know about.

"Oh hunny bunny~" Crowe's singsong voice echoed throughout the ship and of course got no response, but he hadn't expected any.

Crowe checked with Welch who commented that he should become either a cocktail waiter or a strip dancer and replied that she had not seen the warrior since the day he had threatened her 3D life.

There was only one place left, and it was so unlikely that it had never occurred to him to check there, but now that he was out of places to check it had to be it.

Walking into the women's bathroom the Captain of the Aquila spied someone showering. Which normally wouldn't be strange, aside from making Crowe seem even more of a pervert, but what was strange was the fact there was not a single female on his ship.

The shower cut off and Crowe quickly tip toed over to the side of the room, pressing his body the best he could up against the side of the wall, which was hard since he was wearing a large cotton tail on his backside and shaking unsteadily in heels.

Apparently this figure either hadn't noticed him, or didn't seem to care much and Crowe decided to take the opportunity to spy on whoever it was, peering though the misty fog the hot water created and had escaped when the shower door finally opened.

The figure that stepped out was tall, and had pale skin marred with scars of many battles. Well-developed muscles graced the man's chest and long grey hair flowed down his back as a soft white towel wrapped tightly around him obscuring everything from the waist down. Crowe almost frowned in disappointment.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Arumat replied in his usual deep voice that was empty of emotion. Though the Eldarian's body language suggested he was nervous.

This unexpected question led Crowe to believe that the man had noticed his presence the moment he had entered the room. "Like what?" Crowe asked innocently, taken aback that he hadn't heard any kind of death threat or angry roaring from the other.

"Like you want to rip my towel off and ravish me." Arumat said so calmly it seemed out of place.

"I have nothing to do say in my defense." Crow replied in all honestly as he shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

Normally the red-haired man would have said something more… flirtatious, but the situation was a bit uncomfortable for such joking. He stepped away from the wall in his bunny suit, which now seemed out of place and was started to make _him_ nervous. He had begun to wonder if maybe he were vaguely masochistic, even though he was doing all this just to give the Eldarian a reprieve from all the stressful, emotional events that had happened not to far in the past.

"That's disappointing." Arumat replied secretly wanting to freak out, but there was nothing to get angry about. Not really, not when he was in such a disconsolate mood. "No matter how much I want to hurt you, it won't change anything."

"So, barging in on you in the women's shower room in high heels and a one piece swimsuit with a bunny hand band is no big deal?" Crowe asked quelling his nerves enough to sound normal.

"Not as big of a deal as you wanting to ravish me." Arumat replied in all seriousness hoping Crowe wouldn't notice how sexy his abdomen got when he was nervous.

Crowe admitted to himself that he had wanted to, quite literally, turn tail and run. The nervous vibes in the room started to make him sweat apprehensively, even more so under that heated glare of golden eyes, with an emotion that was nether anger or displeasure.

"Shall I murder you now, or later for this?" Arumat finally asked. Anxiety and fear in his golden eyes that seemed odd against the battle hardened expression he trained himself to wear.

Crowe was pretty much used to the man's continuous threats of physical harm and his personal death, but seeing as how the Eldarian never actually carried through on his threats, began to wonder it were just an instinct to threaten people and usually it would work as Arumat had scared pretty much everyone on board, even before he started to play dress up.

"What, exactly, are you doing in the women's bathroom, is what id like to know before you decide to fillet me." Crowe asked, able to stand eye level with the man for once. Standing in heels certainly had held at least one advantage.

"Why do you think? You wouldn't have thought to look for me here, or so I had assumed." Arumat replied frowning, hand on hip. His hands were itching for his scythe but unfortunately, or fortunately in Crowe's case, he didn't think he would need it, and it sat where he had left it, against the wall close to his bed.

"You know, an impure body with a pure mind is useless to everyone." Crowe countered, knowing that maybe he shouldn't be joking around with a nervous, half naked alien in such a small space.

"What are you trying to say?" Arumat replied glaring at the man, seemingly trapped in the room as Crowe had been moving slowly toward the doorway the whole time. The silver haired man thought it was to block him in, but Crowe really had intended to escape at one point.

"That you should let me take your virginity." Crowe said grinning. He _really_ shouldn't have said that, and he knew he would pay dearly for such a comment, especially when it seemed like the silver-haired Eldarian wasn't in all that good of a mood to take his lighthearted joking.

Killing the earth captain would cause more of a hindrance then Arumat would have liked, so that was out of the question, even if he would continue to threaten him with such a notion. It was much harder to incapacitate the person then to kill them and the Eldarian was more prone to killing then hurting. It was hard to measure his own strength to be able to hold back, but if anything, Crowe would deserve it.

Swiftly, Arumat punched the red-haired man square in the gut and let the man's body slump to the floor as he got out the red tape from the mysterious item storage space.


	11. Stealing Death

_ A/N: Thanks to Sawahii for being my Beta :3 and to Shiaori who keeps giving me such nice ideas._

_I know I've rated this T, but this chapter is a leaning toward the M side, so if you value your sanity or have innocent sensitivities to M things then… yeah… you might want to skip this chapter._

* * *

**_Stealing Death_**

Crowe's body throbbed painfully and he groaned as his mind hazed back into the land of the living. His grey hued eyes opened slowly and he noticed that he was in a sitting position unable to move his arms, legs and most of his body. The shock realization of this made his mind jump awake and he now noticed he was tied down to a chair with quite a lot of dark red tape, and that he was still wearing the skin tight one piece swimsuit and stockings, minus the heels.

"Morning, Crowe." Arumat said amusedly, as he sat next to him in the rec. room, sipping from a green coffee mug that said 'Anything will give up its secrets if you love it enough' in bold black lettering.

A lot of questions floated to the Earthlings mind and he wasn't sure which he wanted to ask first so he continued to sit there dazed and confused, wondering if perhaps he wasn't dreaming all this. This ludicrous situation he now found himself in was so bizarre it couldn't be possible and he would have pinched himself if he was capable of movement.

Arumat merely sat there with a smug look on his face, silently drinking from the captain's coffee mug. That wasn't the worst of it, as the Eldarian was dressed in a red saffron dress. Yes, the same dress Bacchus had made, the same dress Arumat had made the recipe card for and the very same one that Arumat stole. His mind refused to comprehend all this and his face echoed the insanity plainly.

"I'll throw candy at you until you go into insulin shock!" Crowe replied, not knowing why he said what he did. It really must be a dream, both seeing and saying such nonsensical things.

"I must have hit you harder than I thought." Arumat said seeing the man half crazed, and who wouldn't be, seeing him as he was now, clad in a red dress, black fishnet stockings and red heels.

"You drive me crazy…" Crowe added and remembered there was an Earth song that went something along those lines. "Like no one can… You drive me crazy and I just can't help myself~" He belted out in his soprano like voice.

"Clearly, it appears I've punched the sanity out of you, but I doubt you had it to begin with." Arumat replied finishing off the liquid in the cup and setting it back down. "Coffee has such a bitter aftertaste."

"Yeah, well… that's why mints were invented." Crowe replied then added as an afterthought. "And why people smoke American Spirit cigarettes after sex."

Arumat wasn't quite sure what a cigarette was, but if it was anything like coffee maybe he'd try it. Earth habits didn't seem terribly bad, even if they were stupidly pointless the majority of the time.

"So… ah… why am I tied to a chair, and why are you in a dress you refused to so adamantly wear?" Crowe asked getting to the important matters now, still unknowing if he were in a dream or not but it did make him want to try out all kinds of crazy things to see if he really was dreaming. However, he also didn't want a second helping of painful punch in the solar plexus if this was indeed reality.

"Payback." Arumat said simply as he cracked his knuckles, his golden eyes looking amusedly at the other. He was clearly having a good time tormenting the red-haired man, and he had just barely begun.

"For what!" Crowe asked testing the restraining red tape binding him. It was oddly strong for tape but not coarse enough to be rope, though the sturdiness of it was of the same.

"It's a long list, I'm sure you don't have to ask." Arumat whispered, and his voice was a mix of anger and awkwardness. "Though I don't suppose I entirely mind your little stunts as it took my mind off things."

"Yeah, I guess implying you're a virgin would rank up at the top of that." Crowe said offhandedly. "So… are you?" He continued and wished he had thought better of it. He really should learn to keep his mouth shut sometimes.

Arumat gave him an icy glare that could have frozen over the burning river of fire, Styx. Crowe decided to stay out of that issue and say no more about it.

"At the very least, you've gotten your little fantasy of seeing me in a dress." Arumat replied. "Enjoy it while you can."

Crowe opened his mouth to say something in the affirmative but then thought better of it, or at least the perverted comment he had wanted to say anyways. "It looks good on you."

"Would look even better on the floor, right?" Arumat said, catching on to how much of a pervert Crowe could be at times, but he had learned from Bacchus that Earth men his age were easily excitable when the correct method was used.

"It sounds so sinister when you say it." Crowe responded as Arumat had the uncanny sense to sound emotionless with most of his words, other than the times he was angrily shouting threats of death or irritating swears at people he dubbed as amateurs.

"Not as sinister as this." Arumat replied and bent down so that he could violently press his lips against the red-haired earth captains own.

Alarms, sirens, bells and whistles (and maybe even a slide whistle, because Crowe was just that insane) went off in the red-haired man's mind at the completely unexpected action. If it were at all possible he'd pass out, but his mind refused that, and continued to reel and twist around like a spiny top. He felt as if he couldn't breathe, but that was just Arumat's mouth on his, asphyxiating him.

The one thing Crowe would never be able to forget in his entire life, even if he became brainwashed by the Church of Sydonai, or took to spring cleaning his mind with dangerous chemicals, was the fact that Arumat kissed just as fervently as he would kill in battle.

It would be the first and probably only time Crowe would have absolutely nothing to say, the first and last time his mouth would hang open in utter flabbergasting shock. His lips tasting like bitter coffee, not at all like the kind he would make (and Arumat really had no idea how to work the machine at all in fact.)

"Now I've stolen something from you, so that makes us even." Arumat said trying to looking intimidating in a sexy red dress, fishnets and high heels which was short of impossible. He did look strangely sexy for a man in a dress however and even more so when he walked, the material flowing like a crimson river down the man's powerfully built body, and the way it swayed as he moved when he walked, making the slit in the side part, showing off the man's pale muscled leg.

Watching was the only thing Crowe could do as the Eldarian turned and walked away from him, his voice caught like a large lump in his throat, a ping-pong ball that he could not swallow and felt as if he were still unable to draw breath, the evenly said words not yet even registering in his dulled mind.

"Amateur." Arumat chuckled, walking the rest of the way out with more grace in heels then Crowe would ever be able to, almost as if the Eldarian had a habit of walking around in such things.

It had been a little over an hour since Crowe had been left in the room alone. His arms displaying deep red marks where he had violently struggled against the tape in order to free himself, his legs the same as well. It wasn't the struggle of escape. It was the struggle of a sexual frustrated young adult.

No matter what he tried to think of, the red-haired man could simply not get the prior event off his mind. The way it all had felt. Those pale lips crushing against his own, the powerful hand pressing down roughly on his upper thigh.

Such torture! He wanted to scream in agony of it all. Arumat was truly a cruel man, doing such a thing to him and then leaving with a sly grin on his face. Crowe was a straight man. Straight as an arrow! Yet… _still_… the memory of what happened continued to burned heatedly in his mind.

Worse yet, was the utter misfortune of wearing such a ridiculous outfit he had only planned to wear for such a short amount of time. It gave away a lot in the matter of how his body was feeling. He wasn't so much angry as he was merely frustrated, both types, the emotional and the physical as the swelling in his body refused to do anything but shout at him to remedy it.

It had to subside at some point, right? However many unsexy thoughts he tried to have it didn't seem to do a lick of good as he just found his mind rejecting horrifying ideas such as Bacchus having erotic attachments. Which lead to sex with his wife in some strange type of kinky porno and he was right back to being frustrated again.

Being on a spaceship with an all male crew was mostly likely similar to being stuck on a navy ship. A man has certain needs and as much as people tried to ignore the indecency of it all, there came a point where things happened behind closed doors that weren't always the best of ideas. Even being the talented SRF captain that he was, he was still just a young adult and that meant his body also needed some type of relief at times.

This wasn't exactly what he was planning for when he set out to make the Eldarian forget the troubles that seem likely to crush him under its weight. However, he did tend to have a big mouth and a bad sense of humor, and he wouldn't have dreamed it would get him into so much trouble.

He did have to laugh despite all this. Seeing the scary intimating figure of Arumat in a sexy red dress, something that would have been highly unlikely aside from losing a bet, was priceless. To him, it meant the man had granted him some measure of respect and possible friendship. While not being able to break the man of thinking he was death, at least he was able to break the hard cold shell around him, even if it was bit by bit.

He heard footfalls behind him and attempted to twist his head around toward the sound to see who it was approaching him.

"How do you like being my prey for a change?" The deep voice of the silver-haired Eldarian spoke up as he walked by the red-haired man and sat down across from him.

Arumat was dressed back in his usual Eldarian armor that displayed his chest in such an arousing manner he was surprised the man didn't have girls all over him. The fierce and frightening aura that seemed to always surround him might have something to do with that though.

"You're a very cruel man." Crowe replied and gave him a raspberry.

"Keep that tongue out and I might bite it off." Arumat joked, and seemed to be in a good, but dangerous mood.

That got Crowe to quietly glare at the older man, an oddity for sure, as Crowe never took to glaring or being unfriendly in hardly any case, even against foes. Eventually he took to biting his lip as Arumat continued to give him a disinterested look as if he were waiting for him to ask something.

"Just tell me already." Crowe groaned, buckling under the pressure of the man sitting there passively. "Because it looks like you're waiting for me to say something more and as you can see, I got nothing."

Arumat chuckled, something he rarely did. "Did I distract you that much?"

"What are you getting at?" Crowe asked raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"You stole my chance of death from me and I just stole your first kiss." Arumat replied back, emotionless as usual. How exactly he had known that was to anyone's guess, but there was a certain silver and green hued robotic entity that knew entirely too much about people and freely gave out information when asked.

"I wouldn't call that even, as I bet that was your first kiss too." Crowe said back not knowing if that was true or not. "Why… why did you do that, anyhow?"

"You're not the only one who knows a man's secrets." Arumat replied even toned.

"So, Bacchus has Earthling fetishes or something in that computer brain of his?" Crowe asked not really understanding what the Eldarian was planning in all of this.

"Something like that." Arumat replied being indirect on purpose.

"Say, do you like being stepped on with heels?" Crowe asked, changing the subject.

It was Arumat's turn to raise his brow in surprise. "No. Is that what you were planning with these things?"

The Eldarian wouldn't admit it out loud but he rose one of his feet in front of Crowe and he had seen the man's foot had swollen, making it near impossible to pry the shoe off. It must have been the material they were made of that gave the Eldarian some type of allergic reaction.

"I'd help but you sort of have me tied up at the moment." Crowe said as the man placed his foot back down. He almost wished he wasn't because he desperately needed to take a very long shower in which he would be shamelessly doing things to himself.

"I think I like you this way." Arumat replied, a small smile on his face.

"Oh no, whatever are you going to do to me, Aru-nii~" Crowe said, imitating a young girl's voice.

"Keep that up and I'll make sure you get even more frustrated then you already are." Arumat said grinning that sly smile of his again. Something about that look was awfully sinister and maybe Crowe should pick his words more carefully from now on as he wasn't exactly in the best of position to fight back.

"Eldarians are really… very strange." Crowe replied.

"I could say the same of your race." Arumat replied back. "An Earthling who likes to cross-dress and be stepped on with heels… among other things." The silver-haired man suggested as if he knew quite a bit about the other and would be shortly using these things against him.

"I never admitted to that." Crowe said almost crossly as he shook his head, his fire red hair blazing across his features, almost in a prelude to what his face would soon be like.

"You don't have to admit to anything." Arumat replied an amusement noticeable in his voice as he raised that heeled foot of his and placed it on the younger man's chest almost as if he were about to kick him over. "The answer is no, by the way."

"…No?" Crowe responded confused about what the Eldarian had meant by that, glaring at the offending heeled foot as it began to slowly inch down to a very dangerous place.

"Heels aren't my thing, but I have heard they are yours." Arumat replied dangerously, his foot gliding lower and lower until the top portion of the heel was pressed lightly in the center of a certain and very obviously aroused organ.

Crowe's eyes widened but he said nothing, holding his breath in a muted shriek at the sudden stimulated exhilaration of being caressed by a sexy heeled foot. He would have jumped if he had not been bound down to a chair.

Arumat snickered in a vindictive manner as he put pressure upon that portion of heel. Moving it forward in a fluid motion he received a shocked outcry. Then as he moved it backwards in the same slow, yet unrelenting way he received this time a heavy intake of air, almost like hissing sound.

Through his clenched teeth Crowe swore softly, then inhaled another deep breath, silencing yet another pleasured cry as Arumat continued to massage at the aroused organ with his heeled foot. The appendage being concealed and bound in that tight red outfit he wore, the feeling a bit subdued by this and mostly likely would have sent the red-haired man screaming over the edge by now.

"…Are you feeling frisky yet?" Arumat asked, darkness in his voice as if he were mocking him, and clearly he was as he tapped the jumpy appendage that seemed very pleased to meet with Arumat's heel.

"What sort of question is that!" Crowe asked trying to keep himself from screaming out. As it were, he was already panting in pleasured reaction to this unexpected happening.

"Are you?" Arumat asked again, pressing harder upon that delightful bit of flesh that responded so well back. "Well, are you?" Asking again and again adding more pressure upon him when he hadn't said anything.

"What do you think!" Crowe gasped out as if someone had just knocked the wind out of him. "No!" It was painfully obvious that this was, without a doubt, not the case. A certain part of him decided to thump up in protest from the lack of attention.

"Amateur." Arumat huffed, though clearly amused at how well Crowe was holding himself together.

"So says the sexually frustrated Eldarian _virgin_." Crowe hissed out, trying to keep his sanity together throughout all the vigorous movements he was being subjected to, both from himself and the other nudging at him continuously with his heel.

"This time, you're the sexually frustrated one." Arumat countered enjoying the torturous look on the man's face as well as the little sounds he was trying _not_ to make.

"Ah-ah-Arumat!" Crowe cried angrily, not meaning to stammer his words like that, but with the increased movement and pressure being thrust upon him, it came out in a way that suggested he was enjoying it.

"I wonder… what other switches you have." Arumat pondered out loud figuring he had tortured the other man enough and stopped. Crowe gave out a heavily audible sigh of relief, even though relief was the furthest thing that was going on in the red-haired man's body.

"Argh! I think this is more than enough torture for what I've done to you." Crowe cried out in a pained puff of breath, but he was at least glad the grey-haired man had stopped. His sanity was the least of things he was about to lose a hold of.

"It's not torture, its surprise pain." Arumat replied grinning as he sat facing forward on the younger man's lap, knowing... or at least suspecting that Crowe had a fetish for closeness, even though he hated it himself, he'd suck it up and do it just to torment his prey further.

Seeing as he was nothing but a sitting duck he sighed in resignation. Bound up both in body and sexual longing, he was close to breaking down and pleading with the older to let him go, or at least… do something to help him unwind.

"What's next?" Crowe asked and would have shrugged if he could, pent up frustration and defeat in his voice.

"In a bit of a rush are we?" Arumat asked perceiving just how intensely bound up Crowe's body was at this moment. The deep intakes of breath and the way he was fighting not to heave his hips upward in raw, unbridled passion.

The Eldarian could only too easily sense those emotions in him, their race being empathic. Sometimes this was a good thing, other times, not so much. Arumat was impressed by how well restrained Crowe could be in such a situation, even being tied down as he was at the moment.

"Rather you just get on with it, you know…" Crowe replied trying to steady his breathing but it still came out rather raspy and breathless.

Rooting around in the item storage Arumat drew out a tube of ointment. "I heard that Earthlings use this substance to _soothe_ sore muscles." Arumat said darkly. He brought the tube up to the red-haired man's face so that he could read the label. In red and blue letters it spelled out the words 'Icy-hot'.

The look of horror on Crowe's face said more than words. Not exactly sure how the stuff worked but knew the concept of what it was supposed to do, Arumat thought it would be a fitting punishment for him.

"Don't even think about it! Absolutely, positively… no way in hell…" Crowe began as he imagined just how excruciatingly painfully that would feel upon him and it was clear in his voice that it would be the last thing he would want.

"This or I can leave you here to… _alleviate_ your own needs." Arumat replied, his voice full of a strange disconcerting enjoyment. It was now apparent in Crowe's mind what the Eldarian had meant when he had said 'surprise pain'.

Crowe groaned loudly, as he would _really_ rather not be stuck tried to this chair, burning in unquenched desire any longer than he had to. "You're the Diet Coke of evil. Just 1 calorie. Not evil enough."

"I could do worse." Arumat replied calmly waving the tube around in the others face.

"This is highly unfair I'll have you know." Crowe replied pouting.

"About as unfair as you grabbing my ears, as you clearly know how frustrated I become after that." Arumat said as he unscrewed the cap from the ointment tube.

Crowe continued to pout in an overly cute way that Arumat tended to find adorable but would never admit to it.

"I also know you like to scream out my name out in the shower." Arumat said grinning and making Crowe burn a shade of deep crimson.

"I do no such thing!" Crowe protested adamantly trying to hide how embarrassed he was over that fact.

"You seem to forget, Mr. Captain of the Aquila, that one of your most recent crewmembers has incredible hearing." Arumat responded deeply, his voice whispering close to the man's ear as he squeezed the ointment out onto the palm of his hand.

"I am so going to die." Crowe responded back whimpering in defeat, a sudden lump in his throat.

- TBC


	12. Pain is my Pleasure

_A/N: I'm sorry everyone, I have to rate this M now. Ah, my mind is a gutter… So if murder, bloody messes and kisses are considered something you would rather not want to read about, then sadly you will have to turn away to doing something more user friendly. Arumat was never known to do anything kid friend anyhow._

_A HUGE thanks to Shiaori for being my beta and idea giver, you've helped me a lot on this and I hope it lives up to its greatness. _

* * *

_**Pain is my Pleasure**_

It was rare, at least for Crowe anyways, to see Arumat in one of his violent fits. It wasn't exactly the first time this had happened, or that he had seen this go on. Second actually, the first had really bothered him to no end and as was in his nature he had wanted to tell some joke in bad taste or do something off the wall insane, but frankly it scared the hell out of him. He considered himself to be off his rocker enough not to let this kind of thing bother him usually, and he had seen all kinds of things that _would_ normally send people to blasting themselves out of the airlock. Not counting the insanity of bad humor, no, the madness of the Phantom, the psychosis of seeing someone familiar to you going on a killing spree. A sickening red hued bio-human blob shape with the face of your parent or loved one plowing down everyone and everything had a tendency to give you nightmares and bad paranoia.

Crowe shook his head, the long red hued bangs of hair whipping back and forth in front of him, giving him a bad flashback. Greenish grey hued eyes caught the reflection of an all too familiar pink that belong to that of a laser scythe as it illuminated in front of him, crossing his vision, its glow haunty, giving off an inhuman thirst that he shuddered at. A weapon should just be that, not some blood thirsty, soul sucking entity that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

By all means, pink should _never_ be anything but a girly color, something that cued up images like bubbly hearts, sparkles, unicorns and rainbows. Not something that would cause you to piss yourself when seen extremely up close. Crowe found the notion both comical and fatal that death carried around a hot pink scythe.

Shaking his head again, clearing those dangerous thoughts, Crowe's mind went back to the severity of what was happening before him. This wasn't just about him being deeply disturbed… Or touched in the head, though he seemed to be accused of this sort of thing often, this wasn't exactly the type of situation he was dealing with. It was something that red bondage tape and a red saffron dress couldn't cure (or perhaps a sailor uniform…) As they say, if the shoe fits… well… maybe it was best not to go there being that the grim determined figure before him was still clad in a pair of red high heels.

Crowe's most recent partner seemed to have suffered twice over what a normal person should. Or so he got the impression anyways. Tense shoulders screamed out in knotted pain, a tall and lean muscled frame that was covered in vicious gashes made from past battle. They appeared to have been caused by a sword, almost as if they were made from intentional carelessness, then from inexperienced defensiveness. This to, deeply troubled the red-haired man, adding just one more thing to his list of worries.

Golden eyes with a subtle touch of jade green glinted under a mass of light grey, as the tall, battle hardened figure danced about the room, scythe ripping violently around him, an extension of his body. This pale figure before him moved with an inhuman prowess, something that human speed shouldn't be able to master. As if this weapon were nothing more than a butter knife in his hands, the Eldarian cleaved and flicked the long, heavy weapon around in a macabre staged dance play, himself playing the part of death, using its weapon to rip and tear the invisible foes around him, behind him, in front of him.

Crowe liked to think of death as a calm ending to one's life, watching this display however, disturbed him. In this room death himself was much like the demon's of lore he had read about. Ferociously clawing at life, stealing the breath right from under you, taking you to a place filled with horrors unimaginable. This cold and pale atmosphere would suck the life out of anyone. No wonder the Eldarian seemed to looked so much in his element, and fit all too perfectly into a picture of a bloodied battleground portrait.

"Did you really have to turn this room into an icebox?" Crowe asked but was unheard. Seemingly the other was oblivious in his concentration. Not that the red-haired Captain of the Aquila minded.

Watching… No, it was more than that. It was as if he was entranced, observing with a keen yet measured fascination, far more than he should perhaps, and for the first time it made this scene before him entirely unreal as if he were lost in a dream, his life outside of this being unnoticed and sucked away, his body shivering, but his mind ignoring it, mesmerized and unable to draw himself away, as if the pale figure before him were a mere snake charmer and he was the snake. Each dance, flick, wave or movement he would be caught along with it, moving with each rhythmic note.

It wasn't just watching Arumat practice his moves that held Crowe's attention, though that was a good portion of it. While in his mind he denied it, just like any normal male who grew up correctly world, Crowe secretly loved Arumat's body in the exact same way many people would when it came to at a certain pink haired Morphus female.

It didn't help matters that Arumat was not wearing his usual attire, being clad only in a dress. Red saffron that was now ripped and torn in several places, showing off parts though holes, rips and tears, making it more alluring then just normally showing it, much in the same way lingerie covers up the best parts of the body, leaving just enough for your mind to go into overdrive. Crowe thought this was more of an improvement then a bad thing; the fishnets were much the same, ripped, barley hanging on in most places. The pink hue of the scythe combined with the redness of the shoes and dress made him think about to the time he had been taken to a strip club on Earth for his last birthday. All that was needed would be many colored spotlights and a thumping baseline. Take away that scythe and give him a pink pole and he would be set.

Crowe's mind had started on a dangerous path. He began to wonder if Eldarian's had to worry about the same things Earthlings did. Hair and shaving. Every time he had seen Arumat his body was smooth and hairless, not that he was taking the time to admire him enough to notice this. No, no, it was just him noticing off hand, when he was bored one day.

The Eldarian's bare, strong arms glistened and beaded with sweat, they were also marred by long, jagged scars, even one that made a peculiar criss-cross pattern, giving the Captain just one more thing on his long list of things to think about in his free time.

Every now and again Crowe's eyes would wander and he would invariably find himself drawn down to the lower half of Arumat's body. The ever moving figure, while somewhat quick, was also slow enough for him to be able to catch a glimpse of a supple bare leg peeking out from the redness of the material.

It was hardly noticeable but that did not stop Crowe's mind from crashing down like a plane on fire, and well, while his mind was falling quickly into the gutter, other things were rising up in a similar manner. Getting back to the point, Crowe's gutter mind thought it would be a nice idea to investigate whether or not a certain Eldarian's legs would be sexy.

It was not all that easy to tell, but it was fine to take liberties and guess every now and again as to whether or not Arumat's legs were as sweaty as the rest of him, and Crowe thought _yes_ would be a very good answer to that particular question.

Which left the other two, and Crowe was now tilting his head this way and that in a strange manner, attempting to gain a better vantage point to find out if the Eldarian had hairy legs, as this would be more obvious then the second question, which was if his legs were as scarred as the rest of him seemed to be.

Luckily for Crowe, the Eldarian warrior was too caught up in his own trance like state to notice the way the Captain was leering at him, that was… until the Captain fell over.

Having accidently leaned a bit too far, Crowe had toppled over on to his side. He was now looking up at the man whom he had been admiring moments before approaching him, the usual scorned look on his face. He had to say, this was an extremely nice vantage point.

"…What the hell are you doing?" Arumat asked measurably as if deciding if he really wanted to bother or if he shouldn't just murder him now.

"You know that spot of hair below the happy trail?" Crowe asked admiring the view and the fact that Arumat was panting heavily and hadn't realized it.

Arumat raised a brow in confusion, glaring down so heatedly at Crowe that the room itself felt a balmy 95 degrees. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Crowe reflected on this for a moment, looking at the lower half of Arumat's hairless, smooth stomach. Maybe Eldarian really didn't have hair on their bodies naturally. "Do you have hair down there?"

A resonance of metal cutting though meat and bone sounded out and Crowe found that perhaps asking such a dangerous question was not exactly such a good idea, especially while in a defenseless position, or perhaps best not to ask at all, but Crowe was never known for his tact.

That was just the first of _many_ incidents in which Crowe would undoubtedly die way too many times to be healthy.

**_XXX_**

It had all started earlier the previous day. Crowe heading down into the kitchen for his usual routine of coffee (which would be stolen, of course, along with his cup) and breakfast conversation, but when he entered the room it was empty. Arumat had always beaten him there, and of course since the older man hardly slept it wasn't too much of a surprise. While Crowe waited for his long haired companion to arrive, he thought up reasons for his tardiness.

When the Eldarian had failed to show after an hour and three cups of coffee (the first Crowe was able to enjoy in a month) he went off looking. Cautiously of course, seeing as how they were still playing their little games of 'kidnap and torture', or 'cross-dress n' seek'. It was probably another of those instances where he'd get kidnapped.

While in his careful scouting his senses picked up a lot of disquieting noises sounding out from a nearby room. Metal scraping metal, the light clicking of a blade being flung about, and the swish of wind as a weapon cleaved the air. The closer he drew to the training room the louder the sounds got, along with feral sounding menacing roars, like a wounded beast in the darkness of a cave.

Standing still for a moment, listening to the sounds of heavy panting, breathing and screaming Crowe wasn't sure if he wanted to push the switch for the automatic door. When faced with what sounded like a hell demon bent on destruction a rational person would pause, turn heel and run for their lives. Crowe was known to be more of a 'running into danger' type instead of out, and if he had to walk out, it was at a measured walking pace while spewing ridiculous one-liners.

Crowe did not seem to have the same sense as a normal person in this case, especially since he was familiar with the angry monster in the room before him. "Locked?" Crowe externalized in surprise as he had hit the switch for the automatic door.

"Arumat?" Crowe said and banged on the door to attract attention of the room's occupant.

No answer, but apparently the man had noticed as the room became eerily silent.

"Arumat? Is that you in there? As Captain of this ship, I demand you open this door." Crowe called out as he rested a hand against the tightly sealed steel doors.

The sounds started up again and Crowe huffed at the man's reaction of ignoring him. "Arumat!"

Well, if that was how he wanted to play the game, he would just force his way in regardless. It was a little strange for the older man to be barricading himself in there having a practice battle before even having his morning caffeine fix. There was nothing wrong with having a little go at the battle simulator, but usually the two of them sparred after their morning conversations.

"Arumat, what- WHOA!" Crowe had begun to say after having inputted the bypass code and managed to unlock the door only to walk in and almost have his head knocked clean off. "What the heck Arumat, You could have killed me!"

"Nice reflexes." Arumat replied, the olive tint in his eyes flashing dangerously, though his tone was light and mocking. Eldarian's tended to have a strange DNA oddity where their eyes would sheen over with a bright hue when they were deeply emotional in some manner. Whether it was in extreme excitement or extreme pain, it made no difference. Arumat's was subtle enough that it was barely noticeable, unless you were looking straight into his eyes, and this was something that people very rarely tended to do, and with good reason.

"You scared the hell out of me!" Crowe cried out a little more than freaked, and his response did not really help matters much.

"Your defensiveness is useful for something I suppose." Arumat responded as he held that wicked weapon of his downward and away from the other.

"Why did you lock the door?" Crowe asked then shook his head, he doubted the other one would tell him and let it go as he watched the grey haired man silently walk back to the center of the room, drawing his scythe up to mid level, holding it parallel across his waist as he usually did when starting out a battle. "You were waiting for me to break in, weren't you?"

"Do I truly frighten you that much?" Arumat asked looking sullenly while dark amusement played on his lips. He swayed a bit as if he were measuring the weight of his weapon, tilting it from side to side. Effortless, it was just too light, and the Eldarian almost wanted to tie a weight to the end of it.

"You can't answer a question with another question." Crowe replied and frowned. The Eldarian had never really glanced over at him throughout this whole conversation, those golden orbs seemed transfixed… distracted on the weapon in his hands almost as if he were kinda out of phase with things and trying to snap back.

Arumat just shrugged. "I could always slice the other side if you'd like" Arumat replied distractedly pointing at red-haired man's left cheek where he had been grazed earlier, blood running freely down his face unnoticed.

Crowe lifted a hand up to it and drew back blood. "I think I'll pass."

The Eldarian went back to his practicing, Crowe taking the hint to leave him be and walking out.

_**XXX**_

The next time, which was only a few hours later, Crowe had again walked up to that door finding it locked, which wasn't so surprising to him. What was surprising was that when he walked in he found that Arumat wasn't so careful this time. Maybe careful wasn't exactly the word… perhaps Crowe merely expected differently and became careless.

"Why did you just kill me?" Crowe pouted as his soul was lifting up into the sky, but was forced back down and sucked into his body at the addition of a fresh sage being shoved rather roughly into his mouth.

"I control death on the battlefield." Arumat replied, apparently stopping for a rest, the blade of his weapon resting just above his shoulder. "I don't hold back, when I swing my weapon bodies tend to fall. It's… a measured sort of killing. That first time was a warning."

"Didn't know you were so black and white on the issue." Crowe said picking himself up off the ground and dusting himself off, checking to see if he still had all his limbs intact. A scythe tended to hurt a lot more than a regular weapon and he was feeling just how true that was now, having never really experienced 'death by scythe' until just recently, though he had been threatened with this method more times than he could count. He was kind of hurt that Arumat had done it but tried not to show it.

"Lowering your guard only leads to death." Arumat said as he lifted up his weapon of death and swung it around, killing Crowe again.

"Would you stop killing me!" Crowe yelled once Arumat had sage'd him for the second time in all of two minutes. He was beginning to think the older man was getting some type of sick enjoyment out of all this.

"Watch yourself, as death won't wait on you." Arumat replied, swinging the weapon back around and… yes, Crowe really is that dense to get killed a third time.

"Ugh." Crowe cried out overwhelmed first by this being the third time he's gotten killed in such a short amount of time and emotional from the strange look of glee in the Eldarian's features. He lied to himself, saying it was just a trick of the light and that Arumat wasn't being a total sadist as he didn't want to think of him as the type of person who would repeatedly kill his friend over and over for the sheer enjoyment of it.

"You're a defensive minded person. Perhaps you should try blocking me next time." Arumat asked looking down into the dulled grey orbs of Crowe's body. He took a moment to prod the Aquila's Captain's body a bit in the shin with the heel of a rather dirty red high heeled shoe before roughly shoving another sage into the Earthlings mouth.

**_XXX_**

"W-would you... knock that off." Crowe responded, his body filching and crying out in excruciating pain from a rather violent and rather sudden intimate meeting with the wall of the training room. He slid down it, losing his grip on his weapons and fell into unconsciousness.

"Amateur." Arumat chided as he strode over and shoved a sage into the other's mouth, this time not as violently has he had been. It had a strange gentle roughness, as if those few lingering seconds that Arumat's gloved fingers had rested on his lower lip meant something.

**_XXX_**

Crowe was learning his lesson, and if Arumat wanted a fight, he would certain get one, or so he was trying. If his last bout had taught him anything, it was that walking in with weapons drawn defensively was something not worth repeating. It earned him nothing more than an agonizing kick to the ribs and an up close and personal meeting with the wall which he still painfully remembered.

He had to come up with some type of plan. This time when he opened the door he ducked and made a run of it. However he sort of forgot that a scythe was also an area of effect weapon and that a Bloodstorm revolution was very aptly named for what it was supposed to do, even for little crawly bugs such as he had attempted to be this time.

"How many times are you going to sage me?" Crowe asked as he noticed the fingers lingering on his lips from the sage he was now chewing like a cow.

"As many times as it takes for you to win against me." Arumat relied and brought his gloved hand to his own lips to slowly lick the blood off them, which Crowe was finding incredibly sexy and dangerous all in the same moment before… as he forgot to dodge or get up, was sliced to pieces again.

"You didn't even give a chance." Crowe whined. The leafy taste of sage met his lips again. This shouldn't be a taste he should come to expect and/or get used to.

"That's why you don't get distracted." Arumat replied swinging his scythe back and forth above the red-haired man's body like a pendulum of death.

"I have a half naked-" Crowe began saying but, well, there was only one thing that could happen when you were underneath a make shift guillotine.

"Eldarian making suggestive-" Crowe decidedly continued as he was met with the God of Sage and was granted life once again.

"Motions at me and I'm suppose to-" Crowe managed to roll out of the way this time, but not without getting sliced a bit as Arumat let go of his weapon, letting gravity do its thing and imbedding it into the metal floor. "WOULD YOU STOP AND LET ME FINISH!" Crowe screamed, sounding much like a man who had finally fell off the cliff of sanity and into the tumbling waters of lunacy.

"There was an amusing story about a man who had an exposed left thigh. That must be how he won his battles." Arumat replied calmly, this stature high above Crowe, looking down upon him with his gleaming olive eyes and deathly features, smiling as he lifted the scythe and… accidently lost his grip on it again.

"ARRRGH!" Crowe's scream echoed throughout the ship, something that was happening so often that he was almost glad Arumat had, even if it was unintentional, made all the crew members suicide. Watching someone's head explode out in space atmosphere was an interesting sight, or so Arumat told him when he recounted that event back to him anyways.

**_XXX_**

"Okay, now I'm more than a little disturbed then you just killing me for being annoying." Crowe said as he failed yet again in his attempts to enter the room, or to sneak into it, or to… even have a conversation or find out why he was locking himself in here.

"The taste of your blood… is rather pleasant." Arumat replied darkly as a pale pink tongue slowly and sensually licked the blood that had spattered against the pole of death's scythe.

"See, this is what I mean… when I said disturbed." Crowe added as, surprisingly he hadn't died yet. Yet being the keyword there as blocking a quickly moving scythe was not exactly that easy of a thing to do. The quick upward slash, the quick downward slice… repeated a total of five times in what Arumat had labeled as Diabolic and it certainly held true to its name.

Just looking at a scythe you wouldn't expect such brutally fast strikes, as you would normally exploit the weak point between the times the weapon was lowered to the time it rose back up to strike. This however, would make you lose an arm as with the speed and fluid motion it was as if Arumat was using a short sword. It was hard for Crowe to keep this in mind as a short sword defense was different from long bladed defense. Maybe that is why Arumat avoided death so easily, people tended to think long blades were slow and heavy and used different tactics. Of course this only applied to humans. Monsters well, they weren't always so smart.

A red flash passed before his eyes, a hue that wasn't just his hair getting in his face, but more… pink, almost shimmering as it cut acrossed his chest, his body sending out the signal for pain as he dropped to his knees. Pink light danced before his eyes, fading in and out like a car driving on a dark road between lampposts.

"That's how it is." Crowe heard the taller man replied before he was gone and would be shortly up again as Arumat wasn't one for keeping him dead for long. The familiar sent of sage hit his senses, as the herb was placed tentatively into his mouth.

This was more of an efficiency in the Eldarian's mind. The more time Crowe spent dead meant fewer deaths and Arumat was not just being compassionate to match the dodgy shyness of his cross dressing Earth friend. The Eldarian didn't have time for meaningless actions.

**_XXX_**

This time Crowe had a good plan. He would use a distraction. Seriously, this time it would work, and how could it not? Well, he supposed that just because it worked on a certain blond haired boy that he was fond of, didn't mean it would work on someone hardened by many battles. This didn't really seem to matter as Arumat was… an extremely strange individual to begin with and normal logic wouldn't apply to him so this did have a chance of working. He almost wondered what he would do without the wonders of an intergalactic shopping network.

Opening the sliding automatic doors he took the soft, pink plush toy that was Roak's marshmallow like bunny - that also tended to give a certain Eldarian nightmares - and threw it into the room.

Giving a count to five he opened the door and charged in, only to see Arumat lying on the floor with the pink nightmare of doom seated almost perfectly on top of him, a softly spoken "Finally…" uttered out of his lips before he was incapacitated.

No one knew if Arumat was saying that as thanks to the Goddess Tria for finally being able to die, that Crowe had entered the room at exactly the right moment, or if Crowe could have counted that as a win, or at least a draw.

Crowe couldn't believe his eyes, and well, who would trust a cross eyed man? No one would, so it was a lucky thing from him that his eyes were not, though they did go all bug eyed at the scene before him. Surely, a harmless stuffed animal could _not_ kill someone. Unless it was somehow possessed and Arumat had been right when he ranted off about how it had come straight up from the very depth of hell itself.

Arumat never ranted, hell the man hardly talked at all and Crowe was starting to feel a bit guilty for waving his hand dismissively and telling him such a thing was about as possible as Edge becoming more powerful as the Eldarian himself.

"Arumat?" Crowe attentively called out as he approached him, the bunny making an extremely cute lion face at him all the while. That thing was even starting to freak _him_ out, being so… innocently cute seated as he was on the dead Eldarian's chest.

"_RAWR!" _It squeaked out far too cutely to be threatening, yet he still screamed like a little girl as it jumped at him, a huge mouth off of teeth and razor sharp claws coming at him like something out of an Earthling horror film.

It was undefeatable, apparently, as everyone knows that nothing could topple Arumat in five seconds (unless he was already half dead, but the man is a walking corpse so I suppose that wouldn't count) which meant that Crowe would not have a chance in heaven. Well, he would prefer to go to hell when he died because the afterlife just wouldn't be the same without his honey sweetie pie Arumat around.

All that aside, this miniature plush bunny was truly the kismet of all things that were _too_ fluffy and cute. No wonder a certain young girl who said 'kay entirely too much was not afraid of large fiery guardian dogs of the abyssal gate.

As Crowe bit the dust he remembered something he had heard on Earth one time. 'Buyer Beware'. Maybe he should take ENII's shopping network a little more seriously next time when something seems a little too good to be true.

**_XXX_**

Crowe had thought this sense of accomplishment would feel… _better_. As he had finally -after many attempts- cut Arumat down and managed to kill _him_ for once. Although maybe he was merely feeling empty because Arumat hadn't really tried, as if he had let him, and this was something he was not happy about. However, seeing Arumat just about gushing when he was brought back up from brink of death with the addition of a sage to his mouth (and almost having his finger bitten off) made him forget the whole thing. It was an extreme rare sight to see the Eldarian being anything but moody and to him it was like winning the lottery. He enjoyed seeing that light pink flush and small smile gracing the older man's pale, scared face.

"Oh, please re-embrace me, sweet merciful death." Arumat prayed to the heavens, which was ironic as he was an atheist, unbeknownst to everyone anyways, as he continued to lie on his back where he had fallen.

"Well, I could kill you again…" Crowe replied warily as he had gotten used to the fact that in this room, there was no escape from the possibility of being murdered by a rather bloodied looking scythe.

Crowe knew that all of the blood on there belong to him, which disturbed him but at the same time reminded him how much he hated to die, but didn't mind so much being teased by Arumat's fingers on his lips each time he was revived. It was a strange and morbid pained pleasure he supposed.

"What would you do once I was dead?" Arumat replied almost smiling for once. It was one of those oddities he tended to have, that he could be so playful and pleased in these dark types of situations that they tended to have a lot of.

"Finish drying my hair." Crowe responded. Ah, the distraction of sweaty -or in Crowe's case, freshly out of the shower- wet, half-nude bodies. While this was best left to people who normally stalked around in next to nothing, it still tended to work just as well as Bacchus suggested it might have.

Arumat gave a really short, harsh laugh at the comment.

That begs the question of why Bacchus knew this, why Crowe never came to this conclusion as it seemed very much like something he would do or think up on his own, and why Arumat never went this route, but considering how awkward the Eldarian was about his own body… we don't even have to ask, unless of course, one likes the tastes of death.

**_XXX_**

"You're just killing me on purpose now." Crowe pouted. He couldn't complain too much however, as he did manage to hold out for a total of ten minutes before the Eldarian seemed to have had enough playing around and murdered him in one stroke.

Arumat grinned playful as he reached into the virtual item storage and pulled out that all too familiar herb that was featured a lot in one of ENII's popular shows 'Chariot of the 4th' on the fetish channel. "You're going to have to try harder than that, but you're showing a bit of improvement."

Rising up from his grave, which seemed to be the metal floor of the training room Crowe replied with the usual giddiness Arumat secretly enjoyed. "If it makes you smile so much maybe I don't mind dying."

"Idiot." Arumat growled and shook his head in mock disapproval.

"I think I did well, blocking blow for blow." Crowe replied grinning a little despite having a bit of revive sickness.

"You were terrified the whole time." Arumat countered with his usual small playful smirk.

"That's because you're also overly aggressive. I'm beginning to think you like my blood being splattered all over this room, and maybe you want to give me-AHH!"

"In the future… you should refrain from talking too much." Arumat replied as he kicked him across the room and threw the disconnecting pieces of his scythe at him. The Eldarian truly had wickedly good aim as all three pinned him to the walls missing all the vitals. "By the way… when I attack to your right, I'm usually feinting."

Chucking quietly to himself, the Eldarian began to walk out of the room, leaving Crowe still pinned up to the wall. "A little help here?" He could hear the familiar voice of his companion call out.

Although unnoticed with that pale, scarred back of his turned, the Eldarian gave an evil grin rather liking the idea of anchoring the Earthling to the wall to keep him and his soul escaping his grasp as souls exiting bodies tended to be a dangerous and alarming thing. "Don't mock death so easily." Arumat replied as he stepped through the threshold of the automatic doors.

**_XXX_**

"You've been a bad, bad boy, now come accept your punishment." Arumat said taunting Crowe as he slowly inched into the room.

The grey-haired cross-dresser was still wearing the torn saffron dress and was now spinning his scythe over his head slowly, almost seductively. His hands lovingly twisting around the pole much in the way a stripper would dance upon it, A sexy, yet deadly revolution, but he loved calling it blood storm for… obvious reasons. Then he began to skip in place.

Crowe freaked out, screamed, then ran out of the room, locking the door behind him. He wasn't a coward normally, but there is an exception for every rule. Or would be, if that whole incident had actually happened. Crowe found himself waking up from a nap he had decided to take on the floor of the battle simulator. Or Arumat decided, as it were, as he had just been revived for god only knows how many times, as honestly he lost count after the fourth. It tended to be a bad sign when a man has died more times than he has made love. Maybe he should remedy that situation? However, he had a feeling that wouldn't be quite a good idea seeing as how his choice for a lover was… more prone to killing than love making, or even touching for that matter.

"I think I'm starting to hallucinate now." Crowe said shaking his head. He could have sworn Arumat had just decided to further his career as a zombie stripper, hungering for his flesh, and not the good kind, like he often tended to dream about.

"Well, sage is a medicinal herb, who knows what sort of side effects it could have when taken excessively." Arumat responded rather flippantly as he regarded the red-head with a tilt of his head, a sort of dangerous curiosity dancing in those golden orbs, an alien anal probe perhaps. All the while Crowe mumbled something about 'strippers' which confused the hell out of him as he wasn't sure what this term meant exactly.

"And whose fault is that?" Crowe cried, running a hand though his hair, combing out the knots he had gotten in it from all that tumbling about he had been doing as he had though it was a good idea to knock the weapon out of the older man's hand and try to play at fisticuffs.

"A weakling whose been granted a painless death." Arumat said evenly and with a bit of a smile. After receiving a dirty look from Crowe he added, "…or show me you enjoy it."

"Riiiight." Crowe said, his body feeling sore, his mind murky. "I'm taking a break."

"Feel free to come back if you want me to slaughter you some more." Arumat replied darkly, his lips curving up into that familiar grin of his, his eyes brightening like a cat's eyes in the sun, a small hint of olive that flickered like a broken lamplight.

"You know what they say… you can't spell slaughter without laughter." Crowe responded as he watched the Eldarian lean over getting a very nice view of the older man's behind.

"Here I was, thinking you were just enjoying me toying with you." Arumat answered, and while he could have just nudged his foot under then pole and kick it up, he wanted to tease a bit as he knew the red-haired Earthling would watch him in that way.

"You make it sound like I'm not even trying, that's a bit harsh." Crowe said offended and proceeded to cross his arms over his chest almost as if he was mocking the other as the Eldarian had a habit of posturing in his same manner.

"I could give you another chance to nap on the floor." Arumat added thinking it was a bit cute when Crowe tried to copy his actions and more recently in their fights it seemed he was doing this to some extent.

The Earthling was not just watching him so that he could explore his fantasies later, or he really would have left him dead. If he was to be honest to himself, then he would have to say, perhaps not. He never liked attention or anyone watching him, but with Crowe he was starting to enjoy it, but maybe it was the fact that the red-haired boy had a kinetic energy that he was drawn to. Aside from his bad humor and jokes, Crowe's charm was being energetic and he couldn't help that it had started to rub off on him as well.

Crowe also seemed to be getting better each time they had fought, as he seemed to be watching his movements carefully, figuring out by experience when would be a good time to avoid his strikes, and what attacks he could block. It was impressive, but he wouldn't give him too many compliments.

"Errr… I'll pass. I think my bed is the preferable choice." And with that Crowe left the room. Anytime Arumat had his weapon in his hands he tended to die, a lot.

Though still unknown to Crowe, this was just Arumat's way of teaching him to become better so that maybe, if the Eldarian was lucky –and it seemed he hardly ever was– the man wouldn't die on him like so many others had.

The Eldarian went back to his training, one of his rare genuine smiles gracing the pale lips of his mouth, and Crowe went off and did what he considered a bad habit, knowing he really should break it but didn't see the harm. With how vocal the Eldarian was in his training Crowe doubted he'd notice his new tendency to take overly long showers in which he considered that his vocal time. He then settled in with ice packs on his body as returning from the dead had a tendency to make one stiff, and not in the good way.

**_XXX_**

"As Captain of this ship, I hereby exercise my right to kiss you." Crowe demanded in one of their heatedly close moments, his blades pressing hard against Arumat's scythe.

With a movement of his arm, the Eldarian sent the man flying acrossed the room. Then accidently on purpose let his grip loosen on the blade. Crowe watched in mute horror as it flew threw the air and impaled him.

"You were supposed to kiss me, not kill me." Crowe cried as he was about to die from his injuries.

"I seem to have gotten the two confused. They sound _so_ much alike." Arumat said sarcastically, pulling out a stalk of sage from the front of his dress.

**_XXX_**

"As Captain of this vessel, I'm advising you to stop killing me at once." Crowe said having just coughed up a pile of ABC-sage much in the manner a cat would cough up a hairball.

"As first officer of this vessel, I demand you fight me seriously." Arumat countered, regarding him with an 'ew' expression, wondering if perhaps he should hold back a bit on the killing.

"I have, and who made you first officer?" Crowe demanded as he wondered if there was a resell valve or market for ABC items.

Arumat became quiet and avoided looking at the red-haired man, suddenly very interested in the blood caked in his fingernails.

"Arumat, what did you do?" Crowe asked deciding ABC items were probably not the best of ideas and tossed it in the trash receptacle.

"…Well, you stole my clothes remember? Why do you think I'm wearing this dress?" Arumat deflected as if this should have been obvious and that the man was wasting his time asking pointless questions.

"You're also wearing heels." Crowe replied as if this made the difference and even motioned to them, giving him a chance to admire the way his blood looked on them. Then wondered if maybe he was losing his mind as blood wasn't his thing but Arumat _really_ should wash those things.

After the icy hot incident, Crowe had waited for his chance and stole the Eldarian's usual battle attire, leaving nothing but the red saffron dress and fishnets in its place. Having nothing else to wear and really not keen on walking around in… well, let's just keep what he would normally wear for undergarments a secret, he had to resignedly wear a dress for better half of the week. This _might_ explain why he kept killing Crowe all the time, other than providing amusement and… a bit of _excitement_ on Arumat's part. He did have a blood fetish to feed and Crowe was the perfect victim.

"You know I can't get these off." Arumat replied with a well concealed whine and a slight pout, even if he was perfectly fine with the idea of having them stuck on him.

"I think maybe you secretly-" Crowe began and met the wrong end of a scythe. Not that they have a wrong end of course…

"Like wearing them. Thank you for that." Crowe continued as the God of Sage revived him. While in his time of dying he had come to the conclusion that he would never call him that out loud.

"You're welcome." Arumat replied as he looked down, watching the color come back into Crowe's skin.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely mur-" Crowe attempted, getting a bit of Déjà vu. He could have sworn this might have happened before, but couldn't be sure because he had begun to suffer from hallucinations lately. Large pink marshmallows, zombie strippers, and an Eldarian who liked to cut his sensitive bits with a razor blade. None of which made any sense in his addled sage flavored mind.

"Dered."

"Dered?" Arumat questioned titling his head and glancing over at the red-haired young man. The Eldarian was glad that the application of sage had an almost immediate effect.

"_Murdered_." Crowe spat out, the freshly applied sage still lingering in his mouth.

"If you say so." Arumat said and shrugged his marred, bare shoulders.

"You are impossible." Crowe said, sitting up and pouting.

"You're indirect. Get to the point already."

"That you are a sadistic bastard that likes cross-dressing and heels, as well as evil pink rabbits." Crowe responded back quickly and almost wish he had thought better of it. He could have come up with better insults maybe calling him his special nickname and with all the sage they were using up he could have made a little outfit for him to wear to go with it. Then all the Eldarian would have to do is pluck it from his clothing. Hmmm… he might have to get with Bacchus on that one.

"That's you talking about yourself." Arumat came back, and it was no surprise that the Eldarian was an extremely good trash talker.

"Who keeps murdering me in cold blood?" Crowe insisted still pouting from his place on the floor, glaring up at the older who seemed taller than usual.

"Its not cold blood if I happen to like you." Arumat admitted quietly.

"…What was that?" Crowe asked. He could have sworn that Arumat had said something _nice_ about him for once.

"Nothing." Arumat replied glaring down at him and frowning, almost a pout forming on those pale lips of his.

"No, you said something, definitely." Crowe said getting up so that he could browbeat the Eldarian into talking.

"Should you really be tempting my bad karma?" Arumat responded slipping into an odd state of passive aggressiveness. Most things tended to have a reason to be done, and he wasn't being evasive like this for no good reason. Also, he was never one to be indecisive, either people died or they didn't. Crowe was just lucky that he was fond of him.

"Today's count is up to… what was it, twice, already?' Crowe said attempting to roster up the count for just today, as he would rather not want to know what the total count of it was but he was sure that Arumat was keeping a tally on that, much to his displeasure and the Eldarian's delight.

"Three times and I would be delighted to give you a fourth taste of death's sweet embrace" Arumat taunted passive aggressively, bringing up his weapon to show he meant business.

"That makes me wonder if maybe necrophilia is your thing."

Crowe always wondered if he could speak while dead, or become a ghost if he wasn't revived. It was damn surprising what one could do with the power of will. That or he was just comatose and not totally dead, as he had heard that there was a bit of a difference between being 'mostly dead' and 'totally dead' and he hoped the latter was something he would never have to experience.

"You are going to run out of sage and then what!" Crowe cried out, a bit scared of this happening. He had never really given the sage matter much thought in the past. Now he was sure it was going to become a nervous habit.

"…That is a valid point. As pointed as my scythe is." Arumat said regarding the way the man's blood on it glistened in the soft yellow light of the room.

"…I give up." Crowe said in surrendered defeat. He would have thrown his arms in the air melodramatically, but it was a bit hard seeing as he was still lying dead upon the floor.

"What were you going to tell me before?" Arumat asked, as he learned down, regarding Crowe's comatose body.

"That soaking your foot in a vat of wine would help get those off." Crowe said as if being dead was not a big problem. Becoming a ghost could have been considered a career change.

"I would accuse you wanting to get me drunk but seeing as how you're still dead…" Arumat remarked with remorse, almost as if he were stalling and leaving out something vitally important.

"Yes and I'm _still_ waiting for you to shove sage down my throat." Crowe said stressing the importance that being alive would be a very nice thing, and he would he be the crazed Captain of a runaway ship if he didn't add in his usual bad humor at the situation. "While I am currently dead I would also like to add that there are other things I would not mind choking to death on if it came to that."

Arumat paused for a long while, almost as if he were lost. His eyes glossing over like 'deer in headlights' almost as if not being about to kill the younger red-haired man for his comment were a great perplexity, his mind going 'what now' as it was impossible to kill a dead man. Well, he could, but then he would just end up as 'totally dead' and neither really wanted that.

"…I'm out of sage."

"If the dead could cry, I would be wailing right now." Crowe said very seriously. "I could also use some chains and a B movie prop."

"I am not sure what you mean by B movie prop, but I would agree that you being chained _is_ a very good idea." Arumat replied, still in bent knee position, looking down into Crowe's peace of death face as he proceeded to do last rites, placing his hands in prayer position. "Please see my very much dead friend Crowe safely down into the fierily pits of hell where he might be poked and prodded with many pitch forks and chased around by large pink marshmallows hungry for his flesh."

"You know…. Ghosts can go through walls." Crowe remarked, as his usual, and 'mostly dead' self couldn't help but deflect to his bad humor and that it wasn't very nice of his friend to wish him into an everlasting torment. "I think I at least deserve suntan lotion as a parting gift."

"I could hear you coming with the rattling of those chains." Arumat said not seeing the point of his words. "And if the dead could take possessions down into hell, I would have given you a parting gift before I murdered you, but alas you can not so you are out of luck, not that you had much to start with."

"Death can be a harsh mistress sometimes. Also, you realize that I can molest you with my transparent hands, right?" Crowe said in his best 'I'm a ghoooost~' with a semi-creepy tone and proceeded to touch the older man with his cold, clammy see-through hand on the thigh, making the Eldarian freak out and jump almost into the ceiling.

"…I think a trip to the general store sounds nice right about now." Arumat admitted after pulling his heart back into his chest, and quickly departed the room.

**_XXX_**

"I'm not locking you out." Arumat spoke as he whipped his scythe over to meet Crowe's parry.

Arumat seemed to have become -even more so as he was generally this way on a regular basis- gradually more aggressive and reckless, the usually playfulness gone from his voice and features. The Eldarian even seemed beat down and exhausted, but this was no surprise really as this type of thing had been going on for well over a week, maybe two. Crowe wasn't exactly sure as everything was starting to mesh together in the silly putty that was his mind. Aside from breaks and that time he had been left pinned to the wall, the long haired, pale skinned alien had refused to leave the training room.

"Then?" Crowe asked as he pushed the other back and drew into a defensive position.

And Crowe being Crowe would never let him be, even with how dangerous and intimidating he made himself to be, he could tell the other was suffering and he cared enough to ease it, even if it meant him dying a whole lot.

This time was harsh and it was taking all he had just to fight the other off. He remembered Arumat saying something about 'measured killing' in a slow, painful manner. Not playful as he had been before, this was vastly different from those times. It was also a bad indication that the silver-haired man was holding himself back, lightly slicing at him, wounding more than meaning to kill. His blood had been spattered upon the ground many times and also this time was different. Minor cuts, the blade barely nicking his skin, grazing it like a razor blade would but not deep.

"...Did it ever occur to you that I'm locking myself in?" Arumat said his breath heavy, his smile dark as he deflected a few of Crowe's blows. The Earthling was playing up his offenses a bit and this pleased him.

"Why would you?" Crowe asked as he took measured, strategic paces, analyzing the other's movements and striking where he assumed would be a weak point.

"You lock doors to keep something out." Arumat replied deflecting all the young mans blows, and hearing him protest with a loud groan, before coming around and nicking him on the side receiving a small outcry of pain from him.

"Okay?" Crowe asked confusion written on his face and it showed in his actions as he almost lowered his blade but thought better of it and twirled around much in the way a ballerina would, his blades becoming a spinning whirlwind of red light.

"To keep what you don't want... away from you... at a distance." Arumat said pausing between words as he blocked the blades and then countered with his own, creating a thin line of blood down Crowe's thigh. He was breathing heavily due to the fact that he was holding himself back. It was exhausting, being harder to judge smaller slices then just cleaving into him.

The red-haired captain slid back a bit, intaking breath, and bracing himself against the needle like pain of the cut. "Still not following you here."

"I... don't want you in here for that reason." Arumat replied, and found himself wondering why he hadn't thought to attempt this before. It was harder than the virtual gravity system which he now found boring and unexciting. This, however, was exciting. It thrilled him and got his blood pumping to attempt to scratch more than merely kill.

"You've already killed me so many times I've started losing my mind and imagining you as a zombie stripper who skips like a school girl. Also, you squeal like one to." Crowe replied and ducked just in time to avoid a high slice of the deadly quad-blades of the pink scythe. "You know I don't mind sparing with you, but I do mind being killed so quickly."

"You either defend too much, or not at all." Arumat scoffed, whirling around his blade again, noticing Crowe rolling off to the side to avoid it. "You're too weak and too slow. Honestly, it's boring fighting against someone with no guts, no lust, no passion, _and_ no heat for battle."

"I thought you needed a break, you seem pretty exhausted." Crowe replied as he flip kicked himself back up. His voice held a sympathetic tone, though he knew better as Arumat would hate that from him.

"You'll always be an amateur, Crowe." Arumat replied frivolously.

"Harsh. Then how about I give you a real challenge then?" Crowe said as he took his usual defensive stance a few feet away from the other.

"Heh. Don't tell me, you've been holding back on me?" Arumat replied giving off a small chuckle and an amused smile, the kind that Crowe liked to see.

"Well, a little. Call it caution. I'd rather not add to your collection there." Crowe admitted honestly as the two of them danced, circling the room, squaring off against the other.

"Foolish lad." Arumat said as if Crowe were a novice threatening his master that he would beat him. Though he had to give a snide smile as it bought some good memories back into his mind of those days when he was young and had begun his own training.

"I'm the foolish one? I think that's you. Each time I come in here, you seem to be more worn out than the last. You really don't have to-" Crowe began but was met with the hard force of the scythe's blade against him pushing him back against the wall and cutting off the rest of his words.

"I don't want to hear it." Arumat glared, going back to his angry, dark thoughts. For once he thought he'd be able to forget about all those negative things, but they always returned to haunt him, disappearing only to give a moments peace. Damn that lad for his words, and now he would stop playing nice with him.

"Would you stop cutting off my words?" Crowe demanded as he charged forward, blades to the sides and ready to strike at him.

"Then stop talking and start fighting." Arumat replied as he deflected the blows, thought not as easily as before. He was a bit impressed, maybe the red-haired captain was truly holding back.

"If that's what you want, then I'll show you my real strength." Crowe replied, taking a moment to wipe sweat from his face and taking a deep breath, getting ready to go all out this time.

"If you're going to give your all, then do so. Don't hold anything back." Arumat replied deathly serious, his golden eyes flashing that subtle green shade that they would when he was especially excited.

"Because it's you... I may as well." Crowe responded and charged forward, his tactics going full offensive now.

**_XXX_**

"HAAAA!" Crowe cried out extremely vocal, which was strange for him as he was more the silent battle type, as he ran into the room. One weapon raised into an attack stance high above his head and the other waist high in defensive position.

Without really looking or watching what he was doing he furiously brought the blade down with all his strength upon the tall figure of the Eldarian who was standing before him, expecting a loud clank of his swords meeting against the blade of the man's scythe.

This is not what happened and Crowe recoiled back in horror as blood spattered and sparkled into the air in a swift arch, splashing against his own face and chest.

"Oh God, Arumat!" Crowe cried out, but it was almost too silent, to quiet of a scream to be called one. He immediately dropped his blades and they crashed to the ground as Crowe, in such a state of shock went up and shook the Eldarian by the shoulders, his eyes wide and unflinching. "What… how… you… WHY DID YOU LET ME DO THAT!"

"Hm…" Arumat mused for a moment, his fingers slowly tracing over that old scar on his face that had just become a new memory for him. He brought his fingers down to his mouth to lick at his own blood. "This one… I actually like." He continued, smiling a genuine smile for the very first time since Crowe had known him, and had not even minded that Crowe was trying to shake him, which wasn't working out to well being that Arumat was much like a herculean figure albeit with a frail and sickly looking frame which made this even more of and oddity.

"Don't give me that! I can't believe this! Why didn't you block? Why did you just stand there for! My God what is wrong with you, are you insane!" Crowe continued to scream and rant incoherent words and freaking out completely, the twig that was his sanity snapping in half. Maybe he should invest in those 'sanity sticks' that he saw the other day on ENII's shopping channel. Giving one to Arumat would be pretty amusing on its own.

"Oh? Is that why you always hold back so much?" Was all the Eldarian said as he stood there in amused silence listening to Crowe spouting a bunch of nonsense for well over ten minutes.

"You scared the hell out of me! Letting me scar you like that!" Crowe said accusingly as he pulled frantically at the bangs of his hair.

"You think I _let_ you?" Arumat questioned softly and quietly, his face held a soft amused gentleness to it that was strangely uncommon, almost as if he were secretly crushing on the hot guy in school like a teenage girl would.

"OF COURSE!" Crowe screamed again heatedly and began pacing in circles.

"Crowe." Arumat said, grabbing at the man's arm, blood still running down his face from the heavy cut upon it that Crowe had unintentionally made. That old, ugly scar of his that had been there since the day he was seventeen. The day he had died. Leaving him as nothing more than an empty husk of the human he had once been. He would never consider himself as anything more than an empty shell, something not meant to feel emotion other than battle lust.

"I'm so sorry Arumat, I didn't expect that to happen." Crowe said, tears welling up in those grayish green orbs. He really hadn't mean for it to go this far, and while they had hurt each other plenty of times in the past, this was something far worse than any of that.

Bloodied pale lips met coral lip balm tinted ones, crushing and strong meeting gentle and trembling. Strong and pale hands pulled at the sides of red armor pulling the two closer. For several moments the only sounds were heavy breathing and the slight ruffling of hair being pulled.

"Lip balm does taste pretty good." Arumat teased as he licked his lips, tasting both blood and cherry flavored lip balm.

Crowe was left standing there so much like deer in headlights the whole concept of what just happened flying over his head and leaving him as blank as an empty chalkboard after a school day.

"You know I am not a man to talk about myself, but…" Arumat paused licking at his lips before continuing. "I admit that blood and death excite me in a deep way I don't think you could understand." The pale-haired man went on to say. Quietly, as if he were confessing to a hidden and secret crush, the kind best friends would share in those private conversational moments of a slumber party. "It is my prison and my release, yet that release never comes."

Crowe opened his mouth to say something but the shock was just too much it seemed and he turned and measurably walked out, mouth still hanging open.

- TBC in next chapter.


	13. Pleasure is my Pain

A/N: The second half of what I dubbed 'Pained Pleasures' and this chapter is why this story is now M rated. So if you'd rather not read smut then it's probably a good idea to skip this chapter. (but I will pout, because I worked hard on this. Aru is just very hard to sex up, it pisses me off a little.) Big thanks to Shiaori for being my beta and giving me good ideas. Reviews are always nice so RR if you can.

* * *

**_Pleasure is my Pain_**

That whole incident had just about scared Crowe for life. It had happened almost exactly as every other time he entered the training room. Was there no end to this madness? Yet, here he was, fit to be tied it seemed, checking back –again – since Arumat had decided it was a good idea to continue to lock himself in here. Each time, the Eldarian would catch the Earthling off guard as he walked in, slicing madly at him and drawing blood acrossed the peach tinted skin. An odd sense of gratification passing over the Eldarians features.

It was almost like he was stuck a never-ending loop of horrible violence. Everyday was the same, except now with less dying but more bleeding. He was wondering if he'd eventually need to call in an order of blood bags. Not that he was loosing that much, but it was starting to become alarming to him that he could survive all of this and comes out no worse for wear, that and the fact he used to be a hypochondriac not to long ago. He still was to a point as that was something you never truly grow out of.

Speaking of wear… The Eldarian had finally –thanks to his advice on getting the shoes off–was out of the saffron dress and blood stained high heels. Though his clothing choice was not exactly Eldarian approved either as from all that murdering he decided to get at him in the only way he knew how. Ah, the wonders of Sailor Moon cosplay. Or Crossplay as it now was, since the white and pink hued sailor outfit was laid upon the older man's bed when he had return from his evening shower.

Crowe was glad that the metal of the ship was resistant to weapons of death —or perhaps that had just been Bacchus on his hands and knees _hitting_ out the dents and he never had the occasion to noticed until now— and that pass wording doors could be, at times, a very good thing when used. The phase "to keep something out" entered his mind briefly before a long string of cussing echoed from a dark voice that seemed full of murderous intent.

It would pass in the morning, as it usually did. Bright and early a certain Eldarian would hole himself up in the training area. Crowe very much wanted to see if he was wearing that all too short sailor uniform. The nickname of Sailor Trauma would be all over the internet if he only had a camcorder and a death wish. Well, he already had a death wish, just not a permanent one.

Entering the room and hoping he wouldn't get murdered or laugh himself to death Crowe stepped into find that Arumat was very… _very_ naked. A hot pink scythe flew acrossed the room and smacked Crowe in the face, luckily for him the pole end had struck him. It felt like one of those times when the Eldarian had the occasion to cane him, only this was a lot harder, complete with bone crunching and blood gushing, and running down his face. He suspected his nose might be broken to. He really should just learn to watch out for things, walking in here defenseless. You'd think after a week and a half of deaths and injuries he would have. Maybe Crowe is just a slow learner? Naw, doing what he does, he must secretly be a masochist.

Strangely, Arumat usually had a very strong grip, but this was probably on purpose, and knowing how the older man was, probably threw it at just the right angle so that he wouldn't be sliced up horribly.

"I would rather fight naked then dress in something like that."

"But… it's pink, you like pink." Crowe replied, still lying on the ground and very much enjoying the view of tight pink briefs.

"I have…" Arumat paused to count something. "Sixteen pieces of sage in my pocket, and unless you want a succession of increasingly violent murder I would see to it you find the door."

"But you don't have pockets… Or do you?" Crowe began curiously as he picked himself up off the floor all the while admiring this once in a life time opportunity. Maybe Eldarians were mated with kangaroos? That would explain at lot, that or Arumat wanted to be a cheerleader before becoming a solider. He sure hopped, skipped and jumped a lot for this to be a feasible thought.

The fact that Arumat now took to _throwing_ the scythes themselves lead to a good indication that maybe Crow should heed the older man's words as this might end up being far more painful then just bladed pieces in his gut.

_**XXX**_

Arumat decidedly, probably due to withdrawal from caffeine and being unable to make it himself, joined Crowe for breakfast which consisted of toast and freshly brewed hazelnut coffee.

"To what do I own the pleasure of your company this morning?" Crowe teased and noticed that Arumat, for a lack wearing nothing, and unable to get into Crowe's quarters seeing as how the red-haired captain didn't want to chance being sliced into pieces in the middle of the night, changed rooms, leaving Arumat with no other choice other than wearing that atrocious white and pink sailor uniform, his silvery hair flowing down his back freely as his hair tie was also suspiciously missing.

"I can see _you_ wearing this, but…" Arumat asked trailing off, his voice sounded strained as if he were using ever ounce of his will to keep from going on a destructive rampage. Fixing a ship isn't really something either of them wanted to spend their free time doing. "I'm very clinical about my violence."

Crowe followed the older man's golden eyes with a really strange look – a mix of fear, and amusement as the older drew out a cane from… hopefully somewhere sanitary and was struck on the head with it. "Oddly enough that hideous thing suits you."

"I feel as if this is another dream of yours." Arumat replied, grinning that Crowe had similar thoughts on the silk and cotton outfit –at least with the hideous comment– he did not doubt that the Earthling was more than perverse enough to think it only suited him because it showed off his lower half. Possibly that pink really was his color. There was no shame in that, and he lifted up one of his hands to rub one of this ear covers.

"You will never know, as my diary is off limits to you now and since you decidedly and quite rudely blasted Bacchus out of the airlock in a fit of rage over this… well..." Crowe trailed off and went to take a sip of coffee only to have it stolen right from under his lips. He cursed silently. He had gotten used to enjoying coffee again.

"He deserved it, and he is a robot… so his head did not explode upon entering the atmosphere." Arumat replied laughing then tilted the cup back and drank it all in one gulp, not even minding that… coffee is scalding hot. Then again, Arumat seemed to be burning himself recently as he had noticed… more so the other day when the Eldarian was in the buff, several burn marks on his skin. He hoped they were accidently, but… Arumat scared him more than he ever thought possible and he would rather not want to think of having a sadist as a potential boyfriend.

"You sound disappointed and that just disturbs me."

"What else is new?" Arumat replied fixing himself another cup and grinning a little as if he were in a good mood despite the fact that he was dressed like a stripper on working night.

Crowe would have responded if the sight of Arumat's legs and upper thighs weren't distracting him. "…Huh?" Was all he managed to say and just barely.

It had been something of much debate in his mind. "Are Eldarian's usually born hairless?" Crowe asked having to force himself to look away reminding himself that he didn't want a deadly weapon aimed at him so early in the morning. The taste of death this early would be rather unpleasant and would most likely taste of coffee. Both bitter, only death tended to leave a bad taste of a stale sage in his mouth, where was he keeping those things anyways?

Arumat downed the second cup and fixed himself another, despite the look on his face that said, 'yes, scalding coffee burns when going down ones throat' and if it was any other male Crowe would have called him on trying too hard to be a hardcore badass.

"Pass, next question." Arumat said as if this were a game, and took the third cup in two gulps this time.

"You deserve to die at least once for all those times you murdered me." Crowe said plainly, as he tried not to stare too long at the pale-figured before him, as it was giving him a bad case of morning wood.

"Agreed, which is why I am burning my throat out with this delicious coffee." Arumat said solemnly but was stopped from getting another cup by a hand on his wrist.

Crowe, despite having to look away the majority of the time they were speaking due to the way the outfit showed off all of Arumat's good assets, well aside from the chest, but damn those legs were incredibly sexy, was now looking up into the older man's eyes. They blazed with a dangerous anger mixed with a deep grief. No one people couldn't look into them normally, it was so conflicting it tended make one feel disturbed.

"Arumat… I didn't mean that. Just because I said you were a bad person doesn't mean that I was serious." Crowe said sympatric, which was exactly the wrong tone to use and he instantly regretted it, but he couldn't take it back now.

"Now I'm a bad person who deserves death?" Arumat inquired, those grief filled golden eyes staring into deep gray-green ones full of a similar grief.

"No! Don't even think like that in a serious manner." Crowe cried out grabbing Arumat on the shoulder, which was brushed away as the Eldarian took a measured step back.

Handing the black mug that read in bright red letters "Jump on my sword while you can, evil!" back to Crowe, Arumat exited the room and while the view was extremely pleasant he was beset by a strong feeling of guilt.

'Dammit.' Crowe screamed internally. He hadn't meant for the other to take it so seriously. If only he had read the mood he was in better he might have realized that Arumat was going though a tough time that day.

_**XXX**_

Crowe was determined to make up for what he did as had he never meant to hurt the Eldarian's feeling and they had joked plenty of times in the past and now, he just felt miserable. Like a miserable pile of secrets! No wait, that was something else.

Crowe decided to do what he knew was best, charge into the room and fight Arumat with all he had and maybe he'd be able to apologize afterwards. The one thing he did learn was that Arumat loved death and blood, and nothing could make him in a better mood then by fighting him and spilling a bit of blood for his sake.

Crowe barged into the room, duel laser swords drawn and ready to strike but stopped dead in his tracks and nearly fell over from what he saw before him. He blinked… several times. Then pinched himself, by running his sword over his arm by accident. It strung, and blood began to ooze out of the laceration, but still the sight was before him. It was not a mirage.

"How do you like it? It's supposedly good for anger management." Arumat replied holding a giant green and pink pinwheel instead of his usual pink laser hued scythe.

Crowe's response was to drop his jaw to the floor. Not only was Arumat holding what would be the worlds biggest, sharpest and most dangerous pinwheel but he was also wearing the sailor girl uniform, with those bloodied high heels again.

"Why, oh god why!" Crowe's mind screamed to the heavens for tormenting him. He always had a fetish for school girls and now he had one in front of him, looking ready to go to a carnival. A Carnival of carnage anyways… as that thing looked even more deadly then his usual weapon had.

"Don't worry, this has a 30 day guarantee so if you lose any limbs we can easily get a replacement." Arumat said as if he would skip over to Crowe. He was delighted, almost like a girl with a box of chocolates and a toy won from a carnival game.

"…I think that covers the pinwheel, not me." Crowe finally managed to say after several minutes of controlling both his horror and his excitement.

"Then I will have to be extremely careful." Arumat replied as he spun the blades around, it now had the look of a very dangerous meat grinder.

"What have I gotten myself into…" Crowe asked himself aloud.

_**XXX**_

Twenty minutes and a view up someone's skirt, being breathless in both ways, Crowe admitted defeat without managing to die this time. He had done pretty well, considering this was his world record of how long he had managed to survive the brutal onslaught of Arumat. The Eldarian hardly ever held himself back and when he did, it was all the more painful for the other person. It seemed this was one of those times that the Eldarian wasn't intent on killing him, just seeing how much blood he could draw.

After the scarring incident Crowe felt as if he didn't have to hold back on hurting the other and this time ended up slicing him a few times in places which meant he must be improving as this was one of the few rare times he got a few hits in. Normally the older would deflect every shot of his.

"What's gotten into you today?" Crowe asked noticing that the pale-haired figure was leaving himself a bit more open than usual and that was extremely abnormal for him.

"I'm just restless." Arumat began with a bored tone. "Here we are… stuck in your ship, and have been for so much time that I feel like I'm going to rot."

"Blood's a good look on you." Crowe said, averting the topic and trying to make the other feel better. There was not a whole lot he could do about being stuck in a ship and he figured Arumat would know more about this issue then he would.

"Heh." Arumat chuckled, a bit darker than his usual. There seemed to be something off about him in a way but it was hard to put a finger on what it was exactly. It was something… a bit new, something that the red-haired captain had never seen before in the other.

"There isn't alot I can do about that, you know. That's just how space travel-" Crowe began, even if it was a pointless explanation but didn't get very far as he stopped midsentence when Arumat drew up close to him, something that he rarely did. "What? Is something wrong?"

"Amateur, getting sliced up like that." Arumat replied, a strange glint in those blazing gold orbs of his. Being the taller of the two, he bent down slightly, and without touching the younger one, he flicked out his tongue and licked the blood off the cut on his cheek. "You really might die by my hand if you don't start being more careful."

A bit frightened and taken aback the red-haired figure took a slight step backwards and rubbed at his cheek, an expression of 'I can't believe you just did that.' on his face. "Look at yourself. You let your guard down enough that I managed to cut into one of your older scars." Crowe responded having a bit of mixed feelings as this was the second time he had cut into one, first the man's face and now the deep gasp that marred his hip.

"Do you think I would let you do that on accident?" Arumat asked. The two of them still standing in close proximity to each other, though the situation was reversed. Crowe was the nervous one this time.

"You aren't that reckless, I'd like to think I know you better than that." Crowe responded trying to sound even toned even though he swallowed hard after saying this.

"Do you now?" Arumat said, a snicker and snide smile playing on his lips, implying that the older man had something in mind.

Hopefully nothing that was maliciously dangerous, but considering that this was the man who tended to have more sadistic tendencies than was really healthy he was starting to seriously doubt his words. "...Be serious with me, Arumat."

The flash of green in the Eldarian's eyes and the almost fidgeting posture suggesting that there was something going on, something seriously wrong, especially since that green shade was deeper and more noticeable than usual.

"Arumat? Please?" Crowe asked trying to sound concerned by not overly so as he knew the older hated these types of emotions.

Arumat ran his hand over the newly cut over older scar, his fingers slowly sliding down and back up the pale, smoothed skin, blood slicking his fingers but he would say nothing.

"At least… let me take care of it." Crowe asked, reaching into the item storage for a few medical supplies. "Can I?" He asked tentatively.

Arumat nodded and drew his blooded hand back, looking away, staring at something else as if he wanted to take his mind of what was going to happen. Crowe poured some alcohol on a clean cloth then slowly ran it over the deep cut in his side. Arumat flinched from the strong stinging sensation. To any normal person it would be a common reaction, but Crowe knew how the older man was and figured it had to be something more. Arumat wasn't affected by pain or cuts, but… emotional scars and memories affected him strongly. The green flash in his eyes as he ran the cloth over the skin would tell more than words ever could.

"Don't stop…" Arumat breathed out, as if he knew Crowe would back away from him, from his breathing being pained and sharp and his tone having a strong emotion in it that Crowe wasn't quite sure what it was.

"I don't know about you sometimes." Crowe said quietly as he continued, his feelings going back and forth between guilt and a pleasured high from hearing Arumat sounding so… breathless, in the way one sexually would be.

Arumat gave a small chuckle. "I wanted you to. I…" Arumat began but stopped. He hated talking about these things.

"You? What?" Crowe finished and got a tube of medical ointment out, discarding the rag in the item trash bin.

"…Hated this scar a lot before hand, so I… left myself open on that side on purpose just so that you would cut it, as I knew you would. You would see it as an opening and… " Arumat stopped to laugh before continuing on. "Because… I've taught you well enough to look for that opening after all these weeks of training."

"Your… something else, you know that?" Crowe answered as he squeezed the translucent heavy cream onto his fingers, then placed them gently on the pale-haired man's almost frigid skin. His warm fingers feeling odd against the chilled fresh and he wondered if he was always this cold, or it was just the fact the A/C was usually on full blast whenever the man used the room.

Crowe was enjoying this, even if it was such a strange type of circumstance. He wish he would have been allowed to take care of the other, that first time he had sliced into his friend, but this was good enough for him.

"Says the man who likes to cross dress, and hide all of his crewmate's clothing so that he would have to as well." Arumat said as he closed his eyes, a genuine contentment to his voice for once and it sort of shocked the Earthling so much that his hand slipped and ending falling a bit too far down his leg.

Crow muttered something that sounded like an apology as Arumat grabbed his hand and placed it back on that newly cut scar. "I can't really understand you sometimes."

"Crowe…" Arumat said after a couple moments of silence, his voice full of a grief that made the younger red-haired captain instantly snap his head up. "…I"

"I'm not going to bite you, though I am a bit sorry I keep scaring your scars. I… get a bit scared of doing that, which is why I had held back and-" Crowe felt warm lips on his, though as usual they were rough and demanding.

"I… never liked the idea of your death." Arumat said drawing away a bit, yet still wanting that closeness. "You know… with my past…" He couldn't finish, going silent.

Crowe wiped his hand off on a clean cloth. "Give me your hand."

"Why?" Arumat drew it away quickly as if he had just touched a hot stove.

"Don't be so defensive, I just wanted to wash the blood off it, but I suppose it wouldn't matter, you do kind of like being covered in it and well, having it spattered on your body. It is a nice contract with your pale skin."

"Heh. Are you giving me a compliment?" Arumat said back to his dark humored toned.

"…I think I know where you were going with that. You… " Crowe paused a bit, unsure exactly how to word it so he wouldn't screw up by saying the wrong thing again. "Don't tell me you… that whole look that I mistook for a type of enjoyment was really just…"

Arumat looked away as he usually tended to do when he got nervous or had to talk about himself, but Crowe was going to let him deflect his time and moved up to kiss him. He couldn't get used to the fact that Arumat was always demanding and rough, though like many things about them it was a contrast.

Arumat looked down at him, those golden eyes that always had something to say, too much infact, and Crowe was only beginning to understand, probably one of the extreme few that could, or even would. He couldn't blame them; the Eldarian had looks to kill, in both ways. Now there was dark green hue, it almost obscured the gold in them as it wavered despairingly as if they were trying to say what words wouldn't.

"I'm… so sorry." Crowe said unsure of how to respond to such a strong emotion plainly in the other's eyes. It made him feel as if he had done something wrong and now felt guilty. Guilty for assuming that Arumat was enjoying all those times he was killed. Well, at times they were, since they had some… endearing exchanges but it was true he could never figure the man out reaction wise so it was just trial and error on his part.

"I don't want you to apologize to me." Arumat replied a bit more harshly then he had intended. "I'm not going to train someone who just dies easily." Even if this was sort of a moot point considering how things were going, but it was the sentiment of it, really.

Crowe laughed lightly getting the impression of what the Eldarian was trying to imply. "Oh, I guess I am not such an amateur then, am I?"

"You're still weak, but… you're improving… I guess." Arumat replied looking at him again, his eyes a golden that was marred by a bright shocking green. The trauma of the recently events were clear on his face. Even if Arumat had an extremely hard time showing or saying anything involving emotions his eyes showed it well, if one took the time to look to read them.

"I'm glad to call you my best friend." Crowe said smiling extremely wide.

"…Idiot." Was all Arumat had to say, but he meant it in a nice way as his tone wasn't as harsh as it usually was and that genuine smile graced his lips again.

_**XXX**_

For a change, Crowe had joined Arumat in his room for the evening. They were sitting on the same bed playing poker, which surprised Crowe that Arumat was so good at it. Apparently this was a universally wide and well known game.

"Finally! I win, and you know what that means." Crowe bragged. After losing five hands in a row he was going to give up but the Eldarian had promised that if he won he would be able to ask whatever he wanted.

"It's about time, you lose so badly I was starting to think you were worthless to have around." Arumat responded jokingly.

"Maybe I'm useful for other things? And well… I tried to play Bacchus a few times and he is a lot luckier than you at this." Crowe admitted injecting a bit of a hidden connotation in his words that went unnoticed by the other.

"That's because he's a machine and he cheats." Arumat barked as he collected the cards and proceeded to shuffle them.

"It sounds like you have something against him and I still disapprove of you having blasted him out the airlock." Crow said with a bit of a disapproving pout, trying to remind him that it was a bad habit to blast people out the airlock out of boredom.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time, and it was pretty amusing to see his expression, despite not being able to see a head explode." Arumat said darkly. He figured Crowe would remind him of that incident, considering how he wouldn't have to worry about anymore fancy outfits which he was glad. Finally he was able to wear his old clothes again.

"You are so weird." Crowe responded. In truth he was a bit disappointed that he had to stop his crossing dressing and figured this was Arumat's way of telling him he had enough of that to last a lifetime.

"Quiet stalling and ask your question."

"Okay. I want you to close your eyes." Crowe asked softly.

"…Are you kidding me?" Arumat said regarding him as if he really had lost his mind this time, and this wasn't something you would find in the ship's lost property box.

"Please? I'm asking nicely~" Crowe begged again in his overly cute way that Arumat had a hard time saying no to, even though he didn't want to admit that it affected him that way.

"No, ask for something else." Arumat said and pouted, which was an expression Crowe really adored and would admit that he liked it, but he feared he would be chased around with a sharpened scythe and he kind of enjoyed life.

"I swear to the Goddess Tria that I will not sexual harass you." Crowe promised and put a hand over his heart in a pledge.

"Do whatever it is you're going to do then." Arumat said huffily, closing those fiery golden orbs of his.

Arumat twitched the space in-between his eyes in nervous tension. Crowe noticed this to, of course, and holding his breath reached out to draw up the man's soft grey hair that always hung down into his eyes and with the other ran his index finger very lightly and softly down the jagged, large scar that was forever brutally slashed acrossed most of his pale face.

Very quickly a firm hand painfully gripped the one that was touching his face and pulled it slightly away, yellow eyes snapping open in pained alarm and glaring offendingly at the grayish green ones before him.

"If you minded so much… you wouldn't have even let me to begin with." Crowe began as those golden eyes, now tinted with an olive green hue, stared into his demanding an answer.

"I'd rather not have you touch me… there." Arumat said pausing at the end word almost as if he were implying some hidden message. He shoved Crowe's hand to his chest but didn't move away, which was a first.

"Why?" Crowe asked, one word saying so much as he looked back at the unbelievably pained look on the man's face that he obviously didn't want him to see.

"It's as if... you're touching my memories. The things... I don't want to feel… all of those times that I've failed and this one, the most painful of them all. "Arumat admitted opening up in one of his rare talkative moments. His face looked extremely pained, as if Crowe were twisting a knife into his heart. "I bet you find it even uglier than before, since you've sliced into it."

"Arumat…" Crowe pouted. He hated how the other would get into those moods, and he was no closer to finding a way to solve them either, other than through reckless violence, but he'd rather just do that for an apology if he needed to.

"Then how about a trade?" Arumat said almost immediate, turning to him, fire in those golden eyes and acting as if he wasn't about to gush, having a mushy tender moment all over Crowe.

"I don't want a scar on my face, really." Crowe admitted, his eyes going very wide and thinking very much that this is what would happen.

"I'll… let you." Arumat said and motioned to his scar not wanting to actually imply or admit that he enjoyed Crowe's gentle touch, trying to keeping his voice neutral. "If you agree to do something for me."

"Erm…" Crowe fidgeted nervously. "What… did you have in mind?" He swallowed hard.

"So you agree?"

"Tell me what it is first." Crowe replied sternly.

"No deal. I want you to agree to it first, that way you can't back out of it." Arumat said looking very much like the devil, summoned to sign away Crowe's soul for a favor.

"Has anyone ever told that you are evil?" Crowe remarked crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, you." Arumat said grinning.

"Oh… right."

"Or we could go to bed and forget this whole conversation ever happened." Arumat said and made a movement to get up. He grabbed the cards and gave the ships captain a quick rough peck on the lips before stand up and walking to the door, even though this _was_ his room but there were four other beds not being used at the moment so this did not really matter. "Goodnight Crowe."

"W-wait! You didn't even give me time to think about it." Crowe cried out. The silver-haired figure before him knew that Crowe's biggest weakness was distraction. Crowe figured Arumat wasn't really going to just leave, or maybe he would, he could never guess the others actions very well, unless he looked into his eyes. He'd swear that Arumat was like a moving mood ring without the booklet that told you what the colors meant.

"Yes, I did. Five whole seconds." Arumat countered. He'd be good at hard selling but would most likely get fired for threatening to murder the customers.

"…Fine, I'll do whatever you want." Crowe replied, sitting up on his knees, still on the bed, almost begging like a puppy. He sort of regretted saying this, but he had a habit of speaking before thinking sometimes.

"You want to touch my scars that much?" Arumat asked turning around to face him, his golden eyes marred with confusion.

"Err…"

"Or maybe you're a masochist." Arumat said chuckling a bit darkly.

"Of course I'm not, but I suppose saying that now would sort of seem counter-intuitive being that I must have died at least twenty times." Crowe said, his tone getting more and more quiet and impassive with each step that the other drew to him.

The Eldarian sat back on his bed as if he never left, Crowe settling back down and the two of them locked eyes almost nervously, the grey-green into the gold that had a fleck or two of that green in them.

The red-haired captain made a move to reach out but the other caught his hand reflexively, more of the green coming into his eyes and he roughly let go of Crowe's hand. It was almost like Arumat was leading him, as he liked to have things on his terms the majority of the time, it was obvious from the look in his eyes he was more than a little nervous about this. He closed them, not wanting to give away anything, and in an indication that Crowe could proceed.

The red-haired captain drew his body forward a bit, his hand reaching out while the other bushed the silvery strands of hair aside. His peach hued fingers hesitantly and slowly taking the first brush against the slightly less pale, cool skin, and as he slid them down gently he could feel the roughness. The way the skin healed unevenly in places, all the scar tissue and knots of skin underneath.

The other's reactions weren't unnoticed by the ships captain, the way Arumat tensed his body up, and the way his breath was came in, drawing and exhaling in shaking nervousness. He wanted to say, or do something to ease that uncomfortness but he knew he'd be ruining the moment if he did. When his fingers reached the end of the scar he began to work his way up, the tips of this digits sliding upward slowly. The other gave a deep sigh, almost frustrated impatience laced with annoyance; he ignored it and moved up over the bridge of his nose.

If Crowe was forced to do some unknown thing later he was going to take his sweet time now to make up for it. His mind wandered on this thought for a moment, his fingers finding the top of the scar and going back down for another round.

Arumat once again vocalized what he thought about this, but Crowe wasn't really paying attention, probably just something of annoyance he thought. It was strange how audible Arumat was all of the time. With how much the silver-haired man hated to talk, he sure was vocal enough in battle. He thought this was strange but a lot of things about him were.

Crowe's fingers found the end, and danced back upwards, getting another vocal expression out of the older. He was immensely enjoying the closeness and this very rare chance as he absorbed himself in the moment, not really realizing that Arumat was almost… naw, he had to be imagining it. There was no way that Arumat would make sure a contented sound, maybe he was confusing it for something else, but it seemed the more he continued to soothingly stroke the man's scar the more contented he seemed to sound.

"I didn't think I would ever hear you purring like a kitten." Crowe teased but when he was met with golden eyes snapping open and such a bright green cold look he was about to pray to God as that look was more like asking 'why yes, I want to be murdered horribly.'

Crowe was somewhat relieved when all that happened was Arumat grabbing and twisting his wrist almost painfully before letting it go. It seemed he had ruined the moment by his little quip, but it was such an amazing and unbelievable sound he felt compulsion drive him to speaking.

"That's enough." Arumat replied with quiet anger still glaring threatening at Crowe.

Crowe silently, yet with a pout, drew back, sort of a 'what now' expression on his face.

"It wouldn't be fun to tell you, now would it? You'll see… eventually." Arumat replied to Crowe's expecting look.

"That is just like you." Crowe said sighing. "Keeping me guessing and you know I won't get any sleep as I'll be up all night thinking about it."

"I hope it was worth it." Arumat said grinning his usual dark smile.

_**XXX **_

Another day, another round in the battle simulator.

For some crazed, crack pot idea –which Crowe suspected was just him playing on his weakness of distraction– Arumat was dressed back into that silk and cotton female sailor costume. He wanted to make a joke about it, but thought better of it as that always seemed to lead him into trouble of some kind, and not always the good acceptable kind, but was there ever a good acceptable kind anyhow?

Of course, like usual and not unexpected Crowe found himself in another intimate meeting with one of the black holographic steeled walls. They hurt more than they should, maybe if he hologram them to be pillows next time it would be easier, but he supposed Arumat would just make fun of him for that. Actually no, as Arumat wouldn't say anything at all, he generally didn't, just stare at him with those fierce, piercing gold eyes. Or at least this morning when he had joined him for coffee. It was a little unsettling, but this might be a bit of an understatement as his eyes were generally that way.

After being with the Eldarian for so long he had picked up a lot in the way of expression and the way his eyes tended to look. Today was a bit different, sure they had their usual fierceness but there was something else… something, like many other times, he couldn't read, and that shade of green he found a bit suspicious, and he could a sense paranoia sneaking up on him. It was just so unsettling it tied his stomach and those paper butterflies fluttering about in there, into knots. It was just such a dark sinister shade of olive he found his throat also tying itself into a knot.

After a few more meetings with the wall Crowe spoke up. "Have you been hitting the caffeine a bit too hard lately? It's not like you to be so irrational when you fight against me."

Arumat wasn't exactly fighting him, there wasn't any cutting or dying, but there was a hell of a lot of rough shoving going on. Even if he was holding his weapon, Arumat seemed to find it necessary, amusing or a little of both, to grab him and throw him, and just about picked him up off the ground as he tended to go sailing acrossed the room.

The silver-haired crossplaying figure, with the ridiculous cotton shirt that had an oversized pink bow on the front with a silk and much too short pink skirt, and heels, said nothing as he stalked around Crowe, waiting for his next move. Arumat's breath, hot and heavy came out as a smoky mist in the coldness of the room.

Crowe was tempted by the idea of either quitting or grabbing him and throwing him back just to see how he'd like it. He was leaning toward the second, and when he approached the other and made a move to grab him, he was the one grabbed … and thrown.

"I'm starting to see a pattern here." Crowe remarked flinching painfully as his shoulders were starting to bruise up. "I think I'm going to call it quits today…" He said holding up hands up in surrender, not that it would stop him from being murdered or further injured.

The silver haired figured discarded his weapon to the side and approached Crowe, his breath coming heavily, almost raspy and misty. "Had enough?" It came out more questioning then mockingly.

"I think you have to, with the way your breathing, you know I worry about you, and that body of– "Crowe began but halted when Arumat approached him and just about punched a hole into the wall next to him, it caused him to jump, his eyes flinching a bit from the thunderous sound.

Arumat didn't say anything, but that was not uncommon, the thick overwrought tension was evident, and did little for Crowe's own nerves, especially given his neurosis of people he liked being in close quarters to him, making him just as restless and anxious as the other, though it seemed his was more of a flighty anxiety than whatever was going on with the Eldarian at the moment.

Crowe noticed −and how could he not, considering the intimate proximity− that the others whole body was heaving, almost painfully. While it was rather enticing to him, it really was not the time for Crowe to be distracted by that smooth, muscled and pale scared chest. He was finding it even harder to pay attention now, with that heated panting, that he could feel on his face, and that annoyed look accompanied by blazing golden-green eyes.

Arumat closed his eyes, his brow knotting in frustration. This was starting to become a habit of his when he didn't want Crowe to read him, and if Crowe could have read body language he would have already picked up on what was going on. He didn't, but that didn't stop him from admiring the other. It appeared the older was trying to hold himself back from reaching out to grab him again, he could at least tell that much by the way the fingers on his other hand, the one that had not decided to abuse a wall, were clenching, flexing and tensing.

That was mostly true, as the silver-haired figure was trying with all of his will to calm his impulses, as he very much wanted to grab the other and force him into doing certain things that should _not_ be rushed, even if his body was been screaming at him to. He desperately needed a release and Crowe just came in at the wrong time.

"You scare me when you get like this." Crow remarked a mix of fear and concern in his eyes, the two of them both keeping their hands to themselves, aside from the hand still almost melted to the wall, the room now misting over with sexual tension.

Arumat snapped his eyes open as he always tended to do when he was caught off guard, and merely glared down at the younger before him, those golden eyes lost to a sea of differencing greens. He gave out a dark laugh that Crowe thought would be cute if the cloud of tension wasn't starting to get so heavy around them.

"Are you going to kill me again?" Crowe asked slowly, trying to keep his emotions out of his voice. Since he had placed his weapons away at the same time the other had, it didn't seem likely, but he wouldn't put it past the Eldarian to crush someone's throat and throttle the life out of them if he thought it was necessary. This thought wasn't very pleasant, and he figured Arumat knew a lot of ways to kill someone without a weapon in his hands, and he was more than strong enough to do it.

"I've had my fill of that." Arumat replied darkly drawing himself back, removing his hand from the wall, a little dent marring the surface. He starting a bit of back and forth pacing, his breath still hard and heavy as if he had been running for several hours, the room's coldness still showing with misted breath from both of them.

"Then?" Crowe prompted a bit of concern in his voice, daring not to make any movements.

"There's other ways… "Arumat replied breathlessly as he continued in a slow pace, like a tiger stalking and circling around his prey.

"Other ways? Ways that don't including killing me or slicing me up like a piece of deli meat?" Crowe asked, as clearly as he knew the others habits enough to take a stab into the perpetual darkness.

"You should know me well enough that _this_ is… somewhat of a necessity." Arumat said pausing in such a way that made Crowe swallow hard.

"That's scary, have I mentioned you frighten and disturb me when you get into your dark moments?" Crowe stated as nervous tension rose up, the tension around them getting thicker and sounding a bit unnerved.

"You keep coming back, you must enjoy it for some reason?" Arumat asked as more of a question then a statement, stopping his pacing to look at the other, his eyes brightly shining those many shades of green that ate up the gold in them. "Punishing yourself doesn't suit you, Crowe."

"It's called being a good friend." Crowe replied. Every time his silver-haired friend called him by his name it had been something of a special occasion. As a captain himself, he understood the implication, that he would not call someone by name unless he had respect for him. Crowe smiled and tried not gush over this fact, wanting to stay as neutral as he could until he figured out what was going on _exactly. _He was picking up a bit of what the Eldarian wanted, but he did not want to trust his crazy, gutter mind, especially when one wrong move would destroy everything they had built up in their relationship thus far.

"Heh. Is that so?" Arumat said smiling as if the Captain's words amused him. Though it was hard to tell if this was in a good or bad way, Crowe would just have to trust his instincts.

"Yes, it is." Crowe said meaningfully.

"Then… be a good _friend_ to me and help." Arumat answered a mocking smirk on his lips. His tone emphasizing something which Crowe really didn't get other than maybe thinking he was being mocked... or perhaps flirted with in a bizarre way.

"I don't get your implication, is this a joke?" Crowe really did want a straight blunt answer but if this was, what he was thinking it was, then… they would be beating around the bush for a while.

"Either calm me the hell down, or suffer my bladed wrath for another couple days." Arumat said in a blunt tone as if he were stating something obvious but making no other indication what he meant other wise.

Crowe looked thoughtful for a moment. He could think of a few things, before he got distracted by a rather sexy pair of legs catching his attention when Arumat changed positions, shifting weight to his other leg, the short skirt rustling and moving in a way Crowe's body _really_ liked.

"Crowe... I wouldn't ask this of anyone else apart from you." Arumat replied evenly, using his name again as they locked eyes, his own burning brightly and his body still heaving with a man's unquenched desire.

"I don't even know what you're asking for … exactly." Crowe replied adding in the last word and becoming flushed at the increasing notion of what it was that the Eldarian wanted but not the _how_ part. He'd jump at the chance if he knew, but he was scared of guessing and making a wrong move.

Arumat gave out an amused chuckle. "Give me your hand."

"Err… " Crowe looked down at his hand, then up at that burning looking in the other's eyes, then back down at his hand before finally holding it out _very_ tentatively toward the other, hoping that nothing bad was going to happen. Well bad in a bad way, not bad in a good way which he was suspecting more and more would be the case.

Reaching down to disconnect one of the blades from his scythe, he rose back up and slowly ran it acrossed the flesh of Crowe's palm, crimson rose up and began to stain the peach hue of skin as he tossed the blade to back to the ground.

Crowe drew in a deep pained breath, flinching and crying out. "A-Arumat! What did you do that for?"

"You want to calm me down, right?" Arumat asked with complete seriousness, still holding his palm upwards, the blood creating a pool in his Crowe's hand now and his eyes were focused on it, his tongue licking at his lips unconsciously.

"What are you going to do? Drink my blood? I didn't know you were a vampire." Crowe groaned but then Arumat _was_ as pale as one. He noticed how Arumat was very… drawn in on his hand, the blood seeming to make the Eldarian even more excitable and he loved the way Arumat's tongue ran over those pale lips of his.

"Be a little more serious for me." Arumat demanded, hand still on Crowe's wrist, holding it so that the blood wouldn't spill and be wasted until it was used for what he intended, getting a bit impatient at it taking so long. "You take as long to bleed as you do to defend."

"How can I if you're being so mysterious?" Crowe shot back, but he enjoying the fact that the others man had been holding on to him for so long, that had to be some kind of record. "Bleeding slow is your fault, you've just about bled me dry before hand."

"A short skirt has its uses, and I'm sure that is part of why you want me to wear it." Arumat said becoming more frustrated, and drawing up his other hand to stir at the slightly increasingly pool of blood. He really didn't want to force the other onto him.

Crowe seemed to be more distracted by man's legs and thighs then the tingling sensation that was his palm. It was his turn to lick his lips unknowingly which Arumat gave a short laugh about.

"Crowe…" Arumat replied with heavy, audible impatience, laced with a needy desire.

The way the older said the name shocked Crowe to snapping up his head to look at him. Never had he heard Arumat attempt to be sexy and seductive and he wasn't sure if this was intentional or not but… my god, the way his name rolled off his friends lips made him want to jump on him. "I'm kind of bleeding here…"

"I realize this and you're staring at my legs." Arumat said, impatient and unamused, still holding Crowe's hand and he was about to force it to where he wanted soon if Crowe didn't get a clue.

"Oh… no wonder I didn't hear half of what you just said."

Arumat gave out a heavy sigh of frustration but said nothing, his eyes greenish-gold and just about screaming out, as the rest of his body was, with the words 'how could you not get this?'

"I'm almost disappointed." Crowe replied, reading the other's eyes picking up the desperate need in them.

In a very rare occurrence, Arumat looked surprised. "At what!"

"Your legs aren't as scarred as the rest of you." Crowe said wanting to run his hands up and down them, his body becoming heated, but not to the extent of the silver-haired mans.

"Look higher you idiot." Arumat chided.

Crowe only blushed, going from pink to darker pink to light red.

"I cut your hand for a reason…" Arumat said as he increased his grip on the red-haired man's wrist, getting a pained squeak in response before relaxing it again.

"Ohhhhh." The dots finally connected in Crowe's mind. He would have realized it sooner if this was more of a… normal situation. He wasn't used to a violent anti-sociable person wanting to… get pleasured with a palm full of blood. Usually there was gel for that, or body lotion.

"Finally you get it." Arumat said a mix of relief and his usual deep and dark tone.

"Could have just come out with saying so." Crowe quipped sourly. Really, it would have saved al of time and frustration on both ends, but that was pretty much asking for the impossible.

Arumat smacked him upside the head with his free hand. "Well… would you?"

"Are you sure you want this?" Crowe asked, really wanting to do it, but still fearing something would happen after, he was terrified of being going too fast, and being too forward.

"What am I? A little girl?"Arumat just about roared out, which came out sounding dead sexy.

"In that outfit, yes." Crowe responded back into his normal joking grin.

"You said you'd do anything… do this… no questions asked." Arumat huffing in pained frustration. Still holding onto Crowe's wrist he yanked him forward, pulling him close enough so that their bodies would almost touch, and lifting up the short pink skirt with his free hand, shoved Crowe's bleeding palm onto something very hard and throbbing underneath it.

"Oh my, your rather forward aren't you?" Crowe said, impersonating an airheaded girl's voice.

"If you ever use that tone again I will hurt you very badly." Arumat growled, bringing his free hand up to pull on Crowe's crimson colored hair.

Crowe flinched at the pull but his hand, as well as his mind, was pleasantly focused on what was under Arumat's skirt. "Should you really be saying that with the position I'm in?"

Crowe's bloodied hand cupped around the hard flesh and Arumat groaned out, his body tensing up at the sensation. "Well that answers another question on my list."

"That is?" Arumat replied with heavy breath, just about leaning into Crowe but stopping and holding himself back a bit.

"If you scream as much in bed as you do in battle." Crowe said and chuckled, his fingers dancing up the veins until they reached the top where he ran his thumb acrossed the slit gently and teasingly, being rewarded with a deep, pleasant rumble in the Eldarian's throat.

"Don't be gentle with me, Crowe." Arumat cried out, his body jumping in uneasy restless tension as Crowe squeezed him.

"Then you'll have to instruct me, I tend to… be more playful and well…" Crowe paused to blush again. "I've never had a sadistic boyfriend before."

Arumat glared daggers at him for that comment but said nothing, tugging on the crimson bangs again and rumbled low in his throat. Crowe began to drag his fingers down, what fingernails he had scrapping against the hardened flesh, until he reached the base.

"Do… that again, harder this time." Arumat demanded in a cut off aroused way.

Crowe drew his fingers back up, digging as deep as he could along the way. From what he heard, Arumat was deeply enjoying the sensation of this, and he made a trip downward and was caught in surprise when Arumat grabbed him and switched positions. Arumat's back was now against the wall and Crowe pressed his body against his cold, clammy one. He flushed deeply.

"What are you doing? I didn't tell you to stop." Arumat cried out impatiently, that roar in his voice sounding like a hungry animal.

Crowe drew back a little, and found this to be an even better vantage point, going back to the thick, pulsating base he wrapped his bloodied hand around it, squeezing hard as he jerked his hand upward, receiving a pleasured guttural cry from his friend-boyfriend-lover-partner and executioner rolled into one and then slid his hand back down, before rising up against in the same manner, the pace slow, measured and rough.

Arumat's body tensed and then relaxed and then tensed up again, he wasn't sure what he wanted as kept switching in a confused mix as he had never imagined anyone touching him like this before but the feeling was incredible. Even with the increasing buildup and his roar like moans and increasing heavy breaths, he managed to control himself, keeping that panicky anxiety and fear of having anyone close to him at bay, at least momentarily.

"You're too slow…" Arumat huffed out, though it seemed like he was enjoying it a bit too much to be complaining about such a thing.

"You want it to be over so soon? You're so needy, at least enjoy the moment." Crowe replied almost disappointedly and received a tug on both sides of his bangs and Arumat grabbed the other side and gave out another pleased cry as Crowe took the advice and moved his hand faster, the blood slick and sticky, making an squishing noise. His palm pretty much had stopped bleeding, but there was still plenty there to last until he was finished. It dripped down and covered the sack of flesh beneath it.

Arumat laughed, but it turned into a loud moan, his body jerking forward as Crowe increased the pressure and speed, his eyes moving upward until they came to the mans face. His head tilted back slightly, his eyes half closed, his chest heaving and thrusting toward him. The look on his face was something he'd remember, that look of enraptured enjoyment and the way his mouth was slightly parted, deep purrs and loud roars escaping it. He almost wanted to lean over and kiss him.

"Crowe…" Arumat called out between pants and moans grabbing and tugging on his hair urgently, his own hair loose, fan out behind him, and his bangs moving to the side, revealing more of that jagged, awful scar that marred his features.

"What is it? What's wrong now?" Crowe asked, his eyes still locked on that incredible sexy look on the man's face as he continued to stroke him fast and hard, both his hand and Arumat's ridged, needy member slicked with blood. Crowe felt his own body burning up with need and desire and it only grew seeing the way the Eldarian was acting, squirming and twisting under his administrations, his breath raspy and his voice crying out in such a way that he felt _he'd_ explode.

"…Faster." Arumat replied heavily, barely able to get the word out between the screaming and panting, pulling at the crimson hair again.

Crowe heed him and figured that he'd not only have to increase his movement, but also the pressure as that he got the sense if he didn't he'd get his hair roughly tugged again.

With a loud roaring outcry that sounded extremely familiar to one of his violent battle cries, Arumat jerked forward, his body convulsing as a mix of white and translucent liquid shot out of the quivering flesh beneath his hand, splashing upwards and spilling over the white cotton top of the sailor uniform, blood having mixed in with it a bit making it look more like someone had had a strawberry ice cream fight.

Crowe leaned in and kissed his panting friend, who returned it in his usual crushing way, noticing afterward the way the golden eyes glimmered like a shimmering polished piece of gold. It was a color he had never seen before.

"Not as good as I do on myself… but…" Arumat began taking deep measured breaths. "I suppose I could give you a passing grade."

- End


	14. Phrases

_A/N: This will probably be the last one for awhile as well… Aru-chan doesn't want anymore sexing up, he's so bitter (but tastes like rum) but until I can think up anymore ideas or get into wanting to write those two again then yeah… plus I've been super busy with other things lately. I'm keeping it open in the meantime. I hope you've all enjoyed it so far. Please R&R if you can._

* * *

**_Phrases_**

After an afternoon of digging though his belongings Crowe had decided to leave out his box of coffee cups. Staring down at the box he noticed there didn't seem to be many left anymore. Never would he have expected to lose so many, and had only took the occasion to pack ten of his favorites. The count was now down to two.

He groaned internally. What would be next, his prized t-shirts? They to, much in the same way his coffee cups were, had silly phases on them. As long as they weren't stolen off his back he supposed it wouldn't matter.

Making his way down to the kitchen as was his usual in the mornings, coffee cup in hand that would most likely disappear again at some point in the next hour, he entered the room to see the sullen looking Eldarian seated at the table.

Crowe went through the motions of fixing his cup of coffee the way he liked it, and didn't looked up until he had sat down a crossed from his alien friend. "You just get out of the shower or something?" He asked hugging the mug closely to himself and eyeing up the other who was wearing only his usual burgundy hued pants.

"My jacket needs a wash. I sort of… got carried away." Arumat replied, tilting his head to the side as he looked at Crowe's unusual clothing. Jeans, a strange type of material the Eldarian had never seen before and didn't like the look of, and a dulled red t-shirt with an odd picture pasted on the front of it.

"Carried away?" Crowe asked. He attempted to take a sip from his mug but found a silver cane pointing threatening in his face. "Would you put that way?"

"Coffee first." Arumat said ready to knock Crowe into next week if he had to.

Crowe sighed in defeat and placed the cup back on the table, sliding it across where it found its mark, the Eldarian's pale but powerful grip. The cup was a deep shade of velvet blue with white lettering. The phase "The key to cooking is mastering the sword" was printed on it.

"What did you mean you got carried away?" Crowe asked for the second time. Arumat held up a hand up as he drank the coffee in two gulps, then sent the cup sliding back a crossed the table at him. Surprisingly, or not… as that probably meant he wanted more.

"Since you have thankfully landed on Roak, I took some time to go out and explore a bit." Arumat began knocking his cane into the side of Crowe's chair in a subtle meaning of 'get up and get me more caffeine you lazy bastard' and even gave him a look to match this.

Crowe continued to sit there, receiving plenty of not so gentle taps on the head with the silver cane the Eldarian had grown so fond of, which he swatted away. "Let me guess, you slaughtered everything you could find?"

"Don't complain, it won't go to waste, you can use all that meat." Arumat replied pointing to several animal carcasses hanging up in the far side of the room and overly large crabs lying on the floor. "Don't frown either."

"I'll never understand you." Crowe shook his head and received another push with the cane which he ignored.

"Good, let's keep it that way." Arumat said continuing to poke at him, a bit angry his message wasn't getting a crossed. "Well? Aren't you going to refill that ridiculous mug of yours?"

"I'd rather sit here and stare at that hot, bare, exposed chest of yours." Crowe countered grinning evilly and resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

The red-haired man was taken aback when the Eldarian rose up out of his seat, leaned over and practically ripped the shirt off him. Arumat had grabbed the materials from the shoulders and yanked it up over Crowe's head, he was strong enough to do so without much effort, though Crowe was so stunned he didn't even think to resist. Arumat then pulled it over his own head and tugged it down over his thin, muscled frame.

After blinking several times and coming to his senses of what had just happened Crowe burst out in laughter. While the shirt fit the man's thin, yet muscled frame, it was a bit on the short side, though with the way he wore his jacket it wouldn't really be an issue, it was just that such a short lengthened shirt looked entirely too odd on the man.

While this was silly enough, it was the picture on the shirt that got Crowe going into a fit of the giggles. "That's a good look on you."

Arumat pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. "First cups and now you have these foolish looking shirts?"

"I like my shirts." Crowe replied somewhat offended, then went into another fit of laughter looking at it.

Unhinging his arms from his chest, Arumat glared down at the image on the shirt clearly confused. "Going to explain this one to me?"

Crowe grinned and started to snicker again. He was going to die for this, but it wasn't his fault that he wore it only to tease the man with the hidden meanings of another planets culture. He gave a polite cough. "It's a rooster…"

"And a frying pan?" Arumat asked still not getting what it all meant. "Fried chicken?"

"A rooster is also known as a cock, and a flying pan is hot." Crowe explained grinning all over again.

If Arumat could turn any whiter, he would have. Getting the implication of what he was now displaying on his chest he swiftly got up and quickly marched out of the room. Crowe began to have a giggle fit and got up to get refill his coffee mug.


End file.
